People Have Fallen In Love Before
by daftstupidmistake
Summary: Tplus! Draco went to Durmstrang for a year. Now he's back, and he knows that Hermione doesn't hate him any more. But Voldemort's not dead and Harry and Ron are her friends. Can love or teenage hormones win over that? R
1. He Changed, has she?

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, and if JKR wants to sue me for the 30 dollars I have in the bank… well, I suppose that's fair enough.

Hermione lent against one of the pillars just inside the barrier. She had run headlong into the wall, still unable to fully believe that she wouldn't be thrown back, reeling and with a concussion. That the portal could be sealed, as Dobby had shown them all, only increased her fears. Still breathing heavily, Hermione felt a tight arm pull her into an embrace. Looking up, she saw Ron and smiled, reaching to place her arms around his neck and pull him closer. "I've missed you so much." Ron murmured into her hair receiving a beaming smile.

Hermione almost had a double take as she smiled up at her friend. Ron, if at all possible, was even taller than he had been at the end of sixth year. His hair had been cut differently and he no longer slouched to hide his height. In fact, he seemed almost confident. That might last until the first Potions class, Hermione giggled to herself.

Harry, who had managed to thread his way through the crowd to them, poked the oblivious girl's arm. "Harry!" she exclaimed and hugged him too, pulling Ginny into their embrace when she came within reach.

"How was your summer, Hermione?" Ginny asked as the three separated. Hermione smiled.

"Great, I'll tell you on the train ride… when we don't have to scream about it."

"Oh, something private then!" Harry teased. Hermione turned to smack him lightly on the arm, but she paused, turning her head slightly to the side to get a better look at a blond head bobbing not to far away. It couldn't be….

Draco Malfoy had left the school after fifth year, presumably to work for Voldemort. But who else would have that white blond hair and those ice blue eyes? He's a little taller and even from a distance his eyes look softer, or maybe that's just that his face isn't squished into a scowl.

Hermione's head spun with a million questions, and she quickly turned her head away as she saw his eyes move towards her as though he'd sensed her stare. Feeling his eyes burning into her flesh, she didn't even hear her friends as they asked what was wrong. What she did hear was a husky voice that half-whispered, "Granger?"

Hermione couldn't help herself as she blurted out, "Where d'you come from?"

Draco smiles, but doesn't sneer as he coyly answers, "from a few feet away, Granger."Hermione grimaced, feeling Harry and Ron snarling behind her. "What I meant to say," she began caustically, "Is what the hell are you doing here. You don't go to Hogwarts, remember? Didn't you drop out or something?"

Draco didn't even flinch. "I didn't go to Hogwarts last year. And come on, you can do better than saying I dropped out." He steps forward, a little closer than he needs to, and although his voice is much quieter he's so close that the girl can hear him distinctly over the clatter of the platform, "can't you, Hermione?"

Hermione was so confused when he addressed her by her first name that she didn't even step back. She did manage to pull herself together enough to say accusingly, "well, I've heard that you were working for Voldemort." She observed his reaction closely, as she said his father's master's name. Well, she would have watched closely if there had been a reaction.

Instead, Draco said airily, "Well if you really want to know, I was at Durmstrang. My father transferred me there after…" At this point he falters. Hermione wondered if he didn't want to mention Voldemort in front of her because she was a Mudblood… _Muggle born, she corrected herself _…or because he didn't want her to know something. "Well he transferred me, that's all." Draco finishes weakly.

"Oh really, we'd hoped you'd been bumped off or something. Too bad," Ron sneers.

Hermione shot Ron a cold look, and turned just in time to see Draco smile, gratified, although he still looked a little confused as to why she would defend him even so slightly. Hermione was wondering much the same thing herself. "I figured you'd be happy at Durmstrang. Why have you come back, Malfoy?" she asks, to break the silence.

"Durmstrang was disbanded. Seems the country decided it wasn't fit to remain a school any longer," Draco allowed a small smile to creep onto his face. "And no, I wasn't happy if it's any of your business, Granger." The smile is gone.

"Where are your thugs, Malfoy?" Harry asks, pulling Hermione back flush to his chest. Only then did she realize how close… how intimately close… she had been standing to Malfoy, and she blushed slightly.

"Not here." Draco says quickly. Hermione might have pressed him for more but they were silenced by an ear splitting "ALL ABORD" and the train's piercing whistle. Harry, who had released Hermione to cover his ears, quickly grabbed one side of her trunk which was still sitting, slightly crooked, on the cart she had used to run through the barrier. Ron grabbed the other side and the boys grumbled something about "too many damn books" as they scuttled towards the train as fast as they could, all things considered. Hermione looked away from them, quite surprised to see herself still standing next to Draco, alone now that Ginny had trailed after Harry.

Hermione shrugged, filled with some odd confidence that seemed to be pushing her off kilter. "Are you coming or are you just going to watch us go?" She asked, taking only a minute to watch the Draco's mouth twitch as though he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should. "I'll see you later then, Malfoy." Hermione spun off, pulled a heavy shoulder bag across her back, and set off for the train, jogging the last few steps to catch the train before it began to move. Behind her she heard Draco call, "Granger, wait up!" and for some reason a small smile crept across her face.

She slipped into the corridor and only turned after she heard Draco shout her name for the second time, incredibly frustrated by the sound of it. As she maneuvered the heavy back to allow her to turn around he caught up with her. "Are you deaf? Didn't you hear me?" Draco's face is once again scowling and sulky. Hermione for some reason was surprised to see him change back.

Surprised and annoyed. "What do you want then?"

Not a brilliant retort, Hermione thought to herself, but Draco's face took on a pinkish color and he stammered slightly as he said "Well… I, err… I wanted to talk to you."

"Suit yourself." Hermione retorted, not as caustically this time, and turned to continue along the corridor. Draco lifted her heavy bag from her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"You can't carry that thing." He said, pulling it easily onto his own shoulder. Hermione opened her mouth to protest but was cut off as she saw Ron poke his head out of a compartment.

"There you are!" He called, "What have you been doing?" Hermione slipped into the car, still trying to pull her bag from Draco's shoulder. "What's he doing here?" Ron asked, pulling himself up from the seat that he'd just flung himself into. Harry stands too, protectively, in front of Ginny. Draco releases the bag, making sure Hermione had hold of it before he let go completely. He looked at her expectantly. So did Harry and Ron.

Hermione looked helplessly from Draco to Ron, Ron to Harry, and then from Harry back to Draco. Draco was now lounging in the doorway as if he had nowhere else to go. Hermione realized suddenly that he probably didn't. After Voldemort's return was publicly announced many Slytherins had left Hogwarts. Their entire house had shrunk and Hermione could only think of a three Slytherin seventh-years. Pansy, who would harbor no great love for Draco after the way she'd sobbed when he "abandoned" her, Milicent, who had become Pansy's friend, oddly enough, and Blaise Zambini, who kept to himself. No one would be eager to have the Slytherin prince back. "Dammit." Hermione whispered to herself, feeling sorry for Draco was not something she had ever thought she would do.

"What was that, Hermione?" Harry prompts.

Hermione looked at Draco, wondering if he knew what she'd just figured out. She had an awful feeling that he fully understood how alone he truly was. Taking in a deep breath, she slipped into the seat Ron had vacated and reluctantly said, "We don't own this compartment. And it's against school rules to exclude people. You know what Dumbledore said about inter-House Unity, hazing, and exclusion. Really Harry, after the way everyone treated you in second year, you should know…" Draco smiled down at her, bending to whisper in her ear, "Thank you for that, but we don't both need to be friendless." As he stood, he brushed his hand over her knee making her jump slightly and follow him with her eyes as he strode out of the carriage, winking as soon as Ron and Harry turned back to stare at Hermione. She blushed.

"I knew Malfoy would leave if we didn't rise to his bait." Hermione said as huffily as she could. The boys rolled their eyes, laughed, and began to talk about Quidditch. Ginny shot Hermione a suspicious look before piping in, smiling eagerly as she leaned in towards Harry. Hermione leaned back, closed her eyes, and wished she could lie to herself as easily as she'd lied to her friends. And Malfoy knew she didn't hate him. Oh dear.

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	2. The New Teacher

Even in the Great Hall, Hermione was distracted. She found herself glancing around, looking for Draco… er, Malfoy. Ron steered her to her seat unthinkingly, still blathering on about Quidditch. Harry finally kicked Hermione as Dumbledore gets up to speak, knowing that she would hate to miss the beginning of year notes. He was right, her glare quickly faded as she turned, lips pursed slightly as if she were in class, to listen intently. Harry was no less eager, he had heard rumors that a member of the Order might take the DADA job and he hoped beyond hope that it was Lupin. Loosing Sirius could never be fixed and Lupin couldn't replace his godfather, but having the last of the Marauders (Pettigrew definitely didn't count) nearby made Harry feel that his family was gone but not lost.

However, to his disappointment, there was no Lupin at the table. He quickly thought back to the last full moon… no, that wasn't it. Perhaps he was on Order business and would come later. But Dumbledore quickly crushed that hope. "…and I'm proud to say that the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts has been accepted by none other than Sylvie Psyche. Professor Psyche joins us from Beauxbatons where she has been serving admirably." A woman stood, and Harry gaped, amazed that he hadn't seen her before. Her hair was a strangely familiar silver-grey and her skin was like cream. Even from a distance her eyes sparkled. To Hermione, who had just torn her eyes away from Draco's firm hold, they sparked.

Hermione swallowed quickly. "I don't like her." She said nervously. Harry and Ron stared at her like she was crazy.

"What are you talking about, she's…" Harry began and Ron's sigh finished the statement. Hermione looked away and saw the DADA teacher staring at her. Hermione couldn't break the gaze and as Professor Psyche's eyes began to turn an odd glowing red, she was filled with the growing desire to run. Quickly, Hermione stood, but her legs faltered under her and the last thing she remembered was the loud clunk of her head against the wooden bench.

She awoke to hushed voices around her. Her head throbbed and she let out a small moan. Harry and Ron were immediately at her side, one clutching each hand. "Are you ok?" She heard Ron's voice echo in her head. Grimacing, she opened her eyes to find the room thankfully dim. "What happened? Did you slip or…?"

Hermione wondered much the same thing, then she remembered red eyes and shivered. "That… that thing… it… oh Harry!" Harry climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Ron, looking only slightly jealous, only held her hand even tighter.

"What thing, 'Mione?"

Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it, curling even more tightly as she saw a tall silver haired woman sweep into the infirmary. Harry moved as though to get up but Hermione only held him tighter. Professor Psyche smiled, "Please students, I know you're worried about your friend, but it's time to return to your dorms. Allow Miss Granger her rest."

Harry nodded to her, murmuring a polite "yes ma'am" and pulling Ron with him. Even scared as she was, Hermione noticed Harry's slick glance at Professor Psyche's ass. _Boys_.

"Miss Granger." The Professor pulled Hermione back into the present. Hermione curled her fingers around the sheet, trying not to shiver. She couldn't look into the woman's eyes again, and it seemed highly inappropriate to be noticing the way the light blue silk robes pooled delicately around the Professor's feet. The robes themselves were more glamorous than anything she had seen Hogwarts staff wear. They were more fitted and the stitched in sash gave the thin woman attractive hips. That, to Hermione, ruled out the possibility of this woman being a Veela. Veela wore deliberately unflattering clothes, as if to prove that they were still beautiful, no matter what. Besides, what Veela's eyes flashed red and caused _women_ to faint?

"Hermione," Professor Psyche smiled as she sat on a corner of the bed, "The Headmaster has led me to understand that you are the most talented witch in your grade." Even afraid, Hermione's cheeks colored slightly with pleasure. She watched the woman's hands, as they lay softly in her lap. At least she was not holding a wand. Hermione was, under her blankets. She only hoped that it would not take her too long to pull it out. "And I want you to know that you aren't weak for fainting in the Hall." Hermione began to prepare her first defense spell. "You will have to keep this to yourself but my father and I think you should know."

There was a moment of silence.

"I am Professor Dumbledore's daughter."

Hermione dropped her wand. Dumbledore has a child?

"This must be quite a shock, I understand." Professor Psyche smiled kindly. She patted the blankets where Hermione's wand was now buried. "Now aren't you glad you didn't curse me?" Hermione chuckled slightly, earning herself another little smile from the Professor. "My father feels that I would be in danger if people knew I was his daughter. Few of the teachers even know. But I told him you should know. We can't have you thinking you've fainted for no reason, can we?"

"But… why did I, Professor?"

"My mother was… well, not human. My father loved her very much and love can do quite extraordinary things." Psyche brushed her long white fingers over each other. "Essentially, I am raw passion and energy, and that can lash out in… unexpected ways." Hermione the bookworm sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes, mouth open, ready to ask a million more questions. "Get some rest, Hermione. I'll see you in class tomorrow." Professor Psyche placed a hand on the girl's forehead and watched as her limbs fell limp and her eyelids drooped. "Good night."

"G.. Good night, Professor." Hermione yawned as she surrendered to the sleep.

The next morning she was told by a bustling Madam Pomfrey that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had never entered the infirmary. Hermione couldn't say that she was incredibly surprised.

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Additional DISCLAIMER: Psyche belongs in part to Aurora Lorraine, who started this as an interactive story on another site. Credit where credit's due.


	3. Breakfast and Things Heated Up

Hermione was disappointed to see her House table remarkably empty the next morning, even when a sleepy fourth year informed her that Quidditch tryouts had begun that morning, as the Slytherins had managed to book the pitch for the next month solid in an effort to prevent the other Houses from holding tryouts. Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering why Harry couldn't just talk to McGonagall. Even _Hogwarts, A History_ had mentioned House equality rules. They might not be able to kick the Slytherins off of the pitch but they were guaranteed access to all the same materials: hoops, bludgers, Quaffles, and snitches. Hermione smiled, imagining Ron's face if he could hear her thinking about Quidditch, of all things.

A hand on her shoulder interrupted Hermione's internal dialogue. It was warm and soft and she turned around to ask Professor Psyche if she really had been in the infirmary the night before. Instead she looked up into soft blue eyes. Malfoy. "Hi," he said, smiling widely.

"Hi." Hermione's voice did not quite qualify as a squeak, to her immense relief, but it was definitely less confident than usual. Draco only smiled, as if he were glad that she had some obvious weaknesses too.

"I saw you faint last night, I wanted to make sure you were ok." The look in his blue eyes almost convinced Hermione that he actually cared. Not that she was thinking very well. A disproportionate amount of her mind seemed to be focused on his hand, still resting on her shoulder.

"I'm fine." Draco smiled, and Hermione felt her heart flutter as she wondered just how much a year at Durmstrang had changed him.

"I'm glad to hear it." Draco said amicably, "I was a bit worried." The boy looked down at the seat beside her, and then around at the hostile glares of the Gryffindors. He could see Hermione's throat pinken slightly as she noticed the same thing. He smiled ruefully, trying to hide his delight beneath his trademark Malfoy veneer. "Don't worry, Hermione," he leaned close to her ear and whispered confidentially: "I didn't really expect a year away to work wonders and make me acceptable to Gryffindors in general. I'm just glad it worked on you." The flush on Hermione's throat darkened to his satisfaction. He watched her eyes as they flicked down to his lips and then back. He smiled, and reached to squeeze the hand that lay on her lap. Hermione couldn't help but grin stupidly as she noticed that he was almost hugging her and as his hand brushed her shoulder on the way up. Draco walked out of the hall, and Hermione blinked stupidly, wondering if Draco Malfoy had really just been hitting on her… in as nice a way as she'd been hit on in… forever. Suddenly she found herself slipping out of her bench and following him out.

"Draco!" She called as she caught up with him. He turned, surprised but clearly not unhappy, and stared at her. She stood there, mouth slightly open, as she realized that when she began to dash after him she never really stopped to think about what she was going to say when she caught up with him.

"Forgot what you were going to say, genius?" Draco asked, walking back to her, his voice kinder than she had ever heard it.

Her heart fluttered and she wondered if all this was entirely good for it. Finally she found her voice, one part of her mind forcing her to speak, refusing to let Malfoy of all people see her disarmed and off-balance. "I want to know what you were going to say. On the train. When you followed me." It began a clipped sentence, following the general strategy that the best defense was a good offense. By the time she said the word "followed" her voice was less than a husky whisper.

He looked down, and she stepped in towards him, her hand raising of its own accord, desperate to touch that light pink that had begun to grow on his cheeks. "I was…" he began. "I was going to say that I… I thought about you at Durmstrang. With Krum there it just, well, you know he comes to visit every now and then and he'd talk about you like you were his girl and I was... I was jealous. I was jealous of him not because his was an internationally renowned Quidditch player but because he had a Mudblood girlfriend." Draco blurted all that out so fast that Hermione's brain wheeled. But even at that pace she could tell that his heart wasn't in it when he called her a Mudblood.

"You were jealous of Krum because of me?" Hermione echoed, needing confirmation.

"Shit, Hermione. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a year even when my dad sent me away specifically because I couldn't stop talking about you."

"You were talking about me?"

"Come on, Hermione. You're supposed to be the smart one."

"Not when it comes to you." Hermione bit her lip, wishing that her brain would just accept what he was saying and _shut up!_ She looked up at him appealingly. "I'm sorry Draco, it's just a lot to take in..."

He cut her off by clasping her face between his two hands and kissing her. The kiss was hard but passionate and it filled her with a senseless buzz. She found herself pulled into a corner, back against the wall, Draco's arms framing her but not pushing her. He kissed her more sweetly then, leaving her room to come to him, move her body against his, all without loosing the passion, pressure, or demand. When his tongue hit her lips she awoke from a frozen stupor.

It was as if something within Hermione snapped. Parts of her mind still screamed that he was a Malfoy, the enemy, a bastard who had treated her awfully for so many years. The thing was… the rest of her mind just wasn't listening. All it cared about was that she had her hands in his hair, the heat of the kiss was only growing and he now had her pushed firmly against the cold stone wall, his warm body a sharp contrast. His hands were on her neck, one cushioning the back of her head against the wall, the other tilting her head back and playing with the small curls that grew just at the edge of her hairline. The sensation sent all the more pleasurable thrills down her spine. At the point where the two were all but drinking from each other they heard the sharp click of heels on the stone floor. They both compulsively sprang apart.

Professor Psyche walked in. Her gaze lit warmly on Hermione and quickly took in the student's hair, pulled from its loose barrette, her crooked collar, her flushed face, rapid breathing and kiss swollen lips. She smiled wryly as the girl blushed, her hand belatedly traveling up to her hair and realization dawning that it was all too apparent what they had been doing.

"Professor, I—" Hermione gasped…

"Don't worry, Miss Granger. I think the two of us understand each other quite well." Hermione smiled in relief, even more glad that the Professor was not only not in the punishing mood, but also confirming that they had met in the Hospital Wing, and that she truly had nothing to fear. "Besides," Professor Psyche allowed herself a small chuckle. "I appreciate different Houses becoming better acquainted." Hermione and Draco's smiles widened guiltily at her little joke.

"I trust I'll be seeing you both in class later today. Do try to keep your hands of each other while I'm teaching."

"Yes, Professor." Draco and Hermione spoke in unison and watched Professor Psyche walk down the hall and turn the corner. Hermione turned to find Draco's eyes warm upon her.

"My God, you're beautiful." He kissed her forehead. She could only smile at him helplessly. "Do you want to find a slightly less popular corridor?"

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	4. Penelope's Garden

Hermione let Draco take her hand and was rewarded by his warm smile. He pulled her through an archway and down a passage, all the while looking back as if to check that she was still there. Hermione tried to look around and get her bearings but she quickly deduced that she'd never been this way before, that she was probably heading deep into Slytherin domain, and that her brain was still too focused on the way the torchlight illuminated Draco's white blond hair to think much more about trivial things like the way back or where she was heading. Suddenly Draco pulled her through a heavy stone arch and they stepped out into bright sunlight. "Its beautiful!" Hermione gasped as much in surprise as in pleasure.

Draco smiled back and swept the entire garden with a single glance. Hermione looked longer, intrigued by the trees that grew haphazardly through the courtyard, the waterfall gurgling softly in the clear pond, the neatly trimmed bushes that seemed to beckon visitors down shady paths towards bright flowers exuding heady fragrances that Hermione could smell even from a distance. "Where are we?" she asked finally.

"Penelope's Garden." Draco had circled Hermione to stand behind her, one finger slowly twirling its way into a thick curl. He stepped forward into her line of view. "Penelope was the woman Salazar Slytherin loved. She was Helga Hufflepuff's sister and under Gryffindor's protection. But she eloped with Salazar and he brought her here." Draco hesitated, almost enraptured by the giddy smile that was flickering on the girl's face. "The pool swallowed her on the second day." Hermione looked at him, struck. He took her hand and watched his own fingers brush over her knuckles. "For years Slytherins have tested their love here. If it's not love… it dies here. Like Penelope." He avoided looking into her eyes.

Hermione had heard of such places, marked by what some defined as vengeful ghosts or sprites. Some even thought they were portals through which gods could work. "Draco—" Hermione knew that she liked him and his kisses very well indeed but true love? And at such a risk?

"I know." Draco put a finger to her lips, half a caress, half a shush. "I know we aren't ready for true love or any of that other shit." His hand traced her jaw line and moved to the back of her neck, pulling her in. "Maybe…" he breathed before he kissed her again. This time when her knees went weak he encouraged them, lying her down softly on the springy grass and leaning over her, propped up by an elbow on either side of her head. For a while he let her kiss him, his tongue only slipping out occasionally to flirt with her. She laughed a little, and felt, rather than saw, his smile before his hand began to play with her bushy curly hair and he began to kiss her in earnest. They were almost too distracted to hear the loud footsteps and the scuffing of gravel. Almost.

It was another Slytherin. Draco swore softly under his breath. Hermione was about to push him off, affronted that he was embarrassed to be seen with her when her movement made him look down at her. She realized suddenly that he was afraid, and afraid for her. She remembered where she was and realized that he must have broken more than one rule to bring her there. He pulled out his wand and Hermione forced herself to trust him even as her instincts screamed for her to run, that he would hex her. But rational Hermione winced and held still, realizing that trusting a Malfoy was better than being caught in something that seemed more private and Slytherin than even their common room. Draco smiled as he saw Hermione's form blink and disappear, and whispered in her general direction, "They can't see you. Wait over by the silver tree." Hermione nodded before she realized that he couldn't see her. Embarrassed, she ran to the tree before she could see his slight smirk as he translated the movement of the grass she had been lying on. He pushed himself off the ground as she peered out from behind the tree knowing full well that it made no difference whether she was behind, in front of, or up the tree if she was invisible.

Hermione watched as Draco sauntered towards the other Slytherin. "Warrick, what is it?" The Slytherin Quidditch Captain nodded subserviently to Draco, making Hermione's blood boil as she saw Malfoy transform into a Death Eater.

"I was looking for you, Malfoy. Your father's here."

"Here?"

"Here." A new, icy cold breathy voice entered the conversation, making both Hermione and Draco stiffen reflexively. Mr. Malfoy had joined them in the garden. "Thank you, Warrick." Warrick nodded and walked out a little too quickly. Mr. Malfoy did not turn to watch him leave, instead he tilted his head to the side as he looked at his son, lips pursed.

"Father, what are you doing here?" Draco's tone was bored but Hermione could see his hands clasped behind his back, his feet turned out, and his straight spine. Draco could pretend to disrespect his father, but Hermione had a feeling that Malfoy senior knew as well as she did that the defiance was an act.

"Looking for you, son. Now where is your companion?"

"You just sent Warrick away."

Mr. Malfoy smiled coldly. "I meant your female companion." The word female slipped from his lips hotly. It seemed Mr. Malfoy had an abnormally strong interest in Draco's love life.

"Father, I just came here to sit. I didn't bring any of those girls." Hermione heard how carefully Draco avoided lying and felt her stomach sink as the awful feeling there might be a truth spell in use swept over her.

"Liar. You have a friend here. Standing over there. Behind the silver tree." An icy wave washed over Hermione's body as she heard those words and saw Lucius Malfoy slowly turn to face her. "Come out, my dear. Let's have a look at you." Hermione considered the invitation for a moment before she ran. Dodging through the trees she wished that Draco would just say something. Or Mr. Malfoy. Anything had to be better than not knowing whether or not she was about to be seized, jinxed or recognized. Hermione was focusing so intently on any sound behind her that it took her a long time to realize that she was out of the garden and flying down unknown corridors with no footsteps behind and nothing to see when she finally turned to look.

Hermione collapsed against the wall in relief and sank down into a crouch, wondering how she had possibly escaped a Death Eater. Mr. Malfoy must not have anticipated the invisibility spell, she realized. That, of course, led to another, less pleasant thought. She didn't know what spell Malfoy had used to make her invisible and she no doubt needed him to remove it. At this rate she would miss first class, or at least not be there enough to be counted in attendance.

Chewing her lip guiltily as she contemplated her first and only escape plan, Hermione pulled out her wand, grasped it firmly and cried "Accio Marauder's Map" as loudly as she dared. Guiltily she waited, feeling that the Map was Harry's and Summoning it did rather count as stealing. Her thoughts were interrupted by the Map's arrival. From the time that it took for the parchment to arrive, Hermione guessed that Gryffindor tower was a ways away. She tapped the parchment briskly, whispering "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." The spider lines spread far too slowly, even as Hermione hissed at them to hurry. When the ink finished its wriggling and flowing Hermione looked down to see that she was in the heart of Slytherin domain, as she had suspected. "Shit."

There were two ways to Professor Psyche's office. One lead through what looked to be the Slytherin common room, the other was through the arch across from Penelope's Garden. At that point, Hermione was more afraid of Mr. Malfoy than twenty common rooms filled to the brim with Slytherins. She followed the Map, and sure enough, it led her to the common room where several Slytherins obligingly if unknowingly opened the entrance. To her distaste, there was some sort of a fistfight in the center of the room, and Hermione was forced to push her way through the crowd leaving a storm of bickering over who pushed who in her wake. Even after passing through a small concealed door thankfully labeled on the map, Hermione did not feel at ease until she reached Professor Psyche's door, checked that the Professor was alone and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Behind her invisible back she tapped the parchment, "Mischief Managed!" and Banished it quickly. The parchment rounded the corner as Professor Psyche peered out of her door, looking both ways down the hall.

"Professor?"

She jumps. "Who's there?" Her wand is drawn and her hand is steady.

"Professor, it's me. Miss Granger."

"Where?" Professor Psyche asks warily, wand still drawn.

"I'm invisible, Professor."

Dumbledore's daughter took the news better than Hermione had expected. She laughed. "Oh dear. I suppose you'd better come in then." Calling for Hermione to shut the door behind herself the Professor quickly brewed her student a cup of tea, no questions asked. As Hermione gulped the "tea" down, grimacing at the foul taste, Professor Psyche smiled. "Welcome back, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Professor."

Fortunately for Hermione she had Professor Psyche's class first, and when she stumbled into the classroom fifteen minutes late, tie askew and face red from running around the castle looking for schoolbooks and the classroom, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Mistress did not even mark her tardy.

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	5. The Wind in the Willows

Hermione sat primly on the castle lawn, a small fire burning a foot above her head to shine a gentle light over her books without detracting from the sunset. Her eyes were fixed on the sun as it sank below the trees but her mouth kept moving dictating to her quill, her hands idly folding the corners of her Advanced Muggle Studies textbook. Although she did not hear his footsteps as he walked quietly down the gently rolling hill his touch on her upper arm didn't make her jump. She had been half expecting Draco to come. She plucked the quill from where it was quivering over her parchment before he could speak and it could scribble down his words too, ruining her essay. Carefully she placed the quill between the pages of her textbook and began to trace the edges of the cover, sliding glances at everything but him.

"You got out ok?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, still not looking at him as she waved her wand and the parchment rolled itself. Draco watched it too, crouched behind her, his hand still resting on her arm. "How did your father know I was there?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

"Vol… You-Know-Who teaches his Death Eaters well." Draco's voice was taut with pain. He allowed himself to slip into a sitting position and Hermione turned to him, new and quite inexplicable concern quickly banishing her suspicion. "He's all cold logic now. He knew I wouldn't be there alone and that the silver tree is the safest place in the garden."

"Why?" asked Hermione, her lips folded as they always were in class.

Draco noticed her reflexive businesslike attitude and smirked kindly in amusement. "Silver is a sympathetic metal," Hermione nodded but opened her mouth to argue that it would obey any bond. It was as likely to be faithful to a father-son relationship as to a… whatever they were. Draco waved his hand. "That tree in particular would be especially sympathetic to us… a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. We're not so different from Salazar and Penelope. And I thought it would protect you."

Although Hermione was ready to object to an analogy that compared her to some girl that eloped with an evil Slytherin and got herself sucked into a pool for it, she quickly forgot it when she heard his last superior comment. It reminded her too much of Harry's overbearing, self sacrificing, controlling tendencies and Ron's possessive protectiveness. The last thing she needed was for her former enemy to forget that she was a competent witch. Haughtily she began to rise, snapping "I can look after myself, thank you very much."

"Hey." Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her back down into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. Hermione stiffened initially, having been rudely reminded that Malfoy had been a right prat for the better part of Hogwarts. This Draco however, simply held her against him. "I didn't mean you couldn't cope. I just don't want anything to happen to you. Call me paranoid but any friend of Potter's needs all the protecting they can get." He brushed a wisp of her bushy hair away from her cheek making her smile as she relented, nodded, and leant into him. He grinned and kissed her ear making her giggle helplessly.

Hermione stroked the fingers of his right hand where they rested on her waist. When he nibbled her ear she quickly threw out words, any words, to stop herself from giggling foolishly. "So, how was your day?" was the best of her brain's effort.

"Better now." Draco answered and Hermione gave in to a laugh. He rolled her over so she lay on her back in the grass and leant over her, casually propped up on his arm. "You're beautiful, Hermione."

Hermione blushed. Even though Krum had proved to her that she wasn't completely unattractive and a few whistles on the streets had made her think that she might even be pretty, Draco's near-reverent tone made her melt. She reached up and grabbed his collar to pull him down to her mouth. She had discovered that she quite liked his kisses.

After what only felt like a few seconds but must have been several minutes a loud conversation reached their ears. Their mouths parted but Draco still lay over Hermione, one arm on either side of her body. He was so close that he heard her hiss "Ron!" and when she jumped in surprise, she bumped into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her to keep her there.

"And Harry Potter." He added as Harry's voice became audible. Draco looked down at her wistfully as he forced himself to say "I'll go" and to get up.

"Wait up!" He heard her voice behind him only a few seconds later and his heart jumped. He turned to her and she ran to him and took his hand. "I'll see the two of them tomorrow." She explained and was rewarded by a grin and a squeeze to her hand. Together, they walked quickly away from Ron and Harry, a flick of Hermione's wand banishing her quill and parchment to her dormitory room. Homework was the last thing on her mind tonight.

Unfortunately there were so many people out enjoying the last golden rays of summer that the two could find almost nowhere where they could be alone and unobserved. Finally they contented themselves with sitting under the willow and a bug repulsion dome. The willow shaded the couple from prying eyes and the chilly lake breeze deterred other students. Hermione, an hour later, lay curled in Draco's arms, oblivious to the cold and growing dark. They talked in soft voices as his hand stroked her neck gently, sending shivers down her spine.

"Hermione?" Draco propped himself up on an elbow, watching his own fingers trace designs on the school jumper that covered her flat stomach.

"Yes?"

"Did you hate me?" She pulled her head up only to find his eyes conspicuously diverted away from her own. After a moment of avoidance, Hermione sat up fully and grabbed his hand from her belly. Reluctantly he sat up straight and sighed. "Two years ago, did you hate me?"

"You were an annoying little prick." Hermione was blunter than she needed to be, a little offended that he was ruining what she was already calling the most magical moment of her life with a past that she was quite successfully avoiding.

"I know. I didn't mean to be." Draco looked down and silence fell over the two. Hermione looked at him, seeming so sad and impulsively wrapped her arms around him. He leant into her and seemed almost ready to cry.

"What happened a year ago doesn't matter, Draco. We were different then."

"It does matter." He sat up and grabbed her wrists. "It really matters, Hermione." His eyes burned into her and she began to wonder about his motivations. It took only a few moments for the brightest mind to grace Hogwarts in fifty years to begin a Socratic investigation.

"This isn't about our feelings, is it? There's something else."

"Just answer the question." His voice was curt and his eyes relentless. Part of Hermione quailed in the face of so much anger and darkness but the other half was only made more determined to help him overcome this cold… Slytherin part of himself.

'Its Voldemort, isn't it?" Draco looked furious that she could read him so easily and his grip on her wrists tightened until it was painful. "Draco, that hurts!" Hermione cried, trying to pull away.

"Hermione." His eyes bored into hers. "I need you to answer the question. In fifth year, who did you love? How did you feel about me?"

"He knows." Hermione stopped struggling, too intrigued at the information she was quickly absorbing from such an intimate connection with a boy she both hated and loved. "But does he know my mind or my heart?"

"Mind." Draco's hold loosens. He felt slightly ashamed at having temporarily forgotten that she was not simply some stupid Slytherin girl, but rather an equal, someone who could be trusted and who could help. "Mind," he repeated, "he doesn't believe in heart."

"My mind would never let me love a Slytherin." Hermione declared. "I mean… It wouldn't. Then. Now…" She fumbled over the words as she saw more hurt, this time without anger, build behind his gray eyes. "Besides, you were practically my archenemy!"

"Who did your mind love?"

Hermione attempted to push this question away. "Oh, it doesn't matter... I don't really remember."

"Hermione. You know that who ever that person is, we need to watch them." She shook your head, unwilling to accept this invasion, even more unwilling to add to the pain in his voice. "Hermione, if they get in You-Know-Who's way then you are in danger. I don't want to pry, I just want you to be safe."

"I liked... well, I liked Ron, a lot." Hermione peered at him cautiously, half afraid of his reaction.

"I guessed." The boy confessed flatly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He looked up at Hermione, his face sincere and sweet. "Hermione, you have every right to like anyone you want to. I'm just so... thrilled that you... like me." His voice was husky and she immediately understand his hesitation, she knew he was going to say love. His eyes called to her, appealing, begging her to tell him that she loved him, but she couldn't. Not yet, not while he was still a Slytherin albeit a very cute and kind one who she was starting to like a lot and the thought of whom could make her heart beat wildly. Instead she smiled apologetically and took his face in her hands to kiss him again. Draco took the kiss as a fairly satisfactory substitute for a declaration of love and kissed her down to the moss that covered the ground, levering himself on his elbows so he could kiss her from above. He teased her, kissing her deeply and pulling away so fast that she had to gasp at the change from his warm, soft mouth to the chilly air.

Soon the two were so cold that even the heat of teenage passion couldn't keep them under the willow. Draco let Hermione sit up and kissed her neck as she grabbed her cape, hands lightly massaging her shoulders. "You go first. I'll walk back in about five minutes so no one sees us together" he breathed into her neck and turned her around to face him.

"OK." Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling as they kissed good-bye, for one minute... two...  
He pushed her away gently, reluctantly. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Draco." She pulled back the willow curtain and walked away, looking back more than once. He watched her leave him.

WOW… I was totally amazed by all the reviews I got! Thank you so much guys… I don't want to be a spaz and write a bunch since the story's what you're here for but it is much much MUCH appreciated!


	6. Gryffindor Tower

Hermione couldn't stop smiling as she sighed the password "Oddments" to the Fat Lady. "Had a nice evening, did you, Hermione?" The painting asked her, and Hermione's grin only widened as she realized that anyone could see the afterglow that radiated from her.

"Not too bad." She said, coyly, sharing a smile with a girl surrounded by flowers in a painting just a few feet away.

"Now, just you mind yourself." The motherly woman scolded sweetly. Then she smiled, lifting a hand from where it normally rested on her silk wrapped waist, as if she could reach out of the painting to the girl. Hermione kept smiling like a fool, feeling as if her face might split open at any moment. The Fat Lady winked as she swung open. "You deserve a bit of fun the way you work yourself to death. Get some sleep, dear." Hermione scrambled through the portrait hole and stopped dead at the sight of Ron. He waited just inside and she could tell he was angry as he paced back and forth a few more times before he caught her trying to slip around him.

"Where were you?" He demanded.

"Why?" Hermione's voice was dull, the evening's magic was beginning to fade from her.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" He grabbed her forearm for emphasis and held even as she pulled back.

"Get off!" The girl glared up at him, "I already have one father, I don't need another."

Ron did not let go, "You weren't here, you weren't in the library… I've checked the Main Hall twice and been through all the grounds, except the Forbidden Forest—" even this angry, Ron's voice faltered at the thought of the Forest. Hermione took advantage of the pause.

"Look Ron, it's really not your business where I was. Back off." He only looked angrier as she pulled her arm from his. "I'm going to bed, I need some sleep." Hermione had only just begun to walk away when, in two quick strides, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to a stop. He stared at her back.

"Where were you?"

"I told you, not your business." Hermione craned her neck trying to figure out what it was that was on her back. Ron obligingly brushed a hand through her hair and held it out in front of her, rubbing the moss, twig, and two willow leaves between his fingers. The look of realization that crossed Hermione's face did not escape his notice and he watched as she flinched, anticipating the explosion. And explode he did. "What _have _you been doing!" He stuttered slightly and his voice cracked as it hadn't in years. Hermione sighed, having no idea how to begin to explain to Ron that she had been quite happily socializing with Malfoy. More than socializing. Knowing that she couldn't tell him the truth, Hermione bit her lip and accepted that she would have to lie to him.

"I fell asleep." Even to Hermione herself the lie sounds pathetic and it was quite apparent that Ron could read straight through it, and his eyebrows shot up sardonically.

"Under the willow?"

"Yeah." Hermione tried to sound reassuring, but failed miserably.

"You were with someone, weren't you?" Ron demanded, grabbing his friend's arm as she tried to walk away. She recoiled, hating the aggressive, possessive side of the redhead that had previously only been seen around Krum. As he pulled her back to him, she lost her temper completely.

"I don't have to tell you anything!"

"Just tell me what this guy has that I don't!" He hissed at her, looking so impossibly angry that she quailed under his glare and clenched jaw, knowing that there was nothing that she could say to appease him. Instead, she tried to continue with denial.

"Ron, you're being ridiculous."

"Just answer me, girl!"

Hermione's feminist side flared up as he spat out the last word and her latest attempt to shake off his iron grasp failed. Instead she whirled around to face him, looking up defiantly. "I'm into him and he's into me. I don't like you that way, Ron. So get over it already!" Hermione's mouth fell open, unwilling to believe that she had just said that. Unfortunately, Ron opted to take advantage of her shock.

When he grabbed her, she was still too surprised to resist. He tucked her in his arms tightly and kissed her hard, his palms spread on her back. Hermione blinked at him with wide brown eyes, unable to believe what he was doing. The kiss was angry and, although Hermione had to admit to herself that he tasted good, the kiss didn't thrill her. It didn't send chills up her spine or make her body press against his of its own accord. She didn't feel her skin crawl and her hair stand on end as though she'd just touched something so electric that the thrills might never stop vibrating through her. Instead his kiss made her angry.

Only because he weakened his hold on her to form an iron lock on her lips was she able to shove him away. He opened his mouth to yell at her and then closed it. Hermione stood there, not moving from in front of him, looking and feeling angry and betrayed. He continued to open and close his mouth several times but couldn't force the words out. Ron left instead, leaving the girl alone by the embers of the common room fire.

Hermione exhaled sharply, not knowing whether to be relieved that she had no second thoughts about him and that he didn't find out about Draco, or still to be extremely pissed at him. In her mind she could see herself slapping him, kicking him, yelling him into oblivion, but she couldn't bring herself to hate him. Confused, only one thing was certain: her euphoria from Draco's kisses had definitely evaporated.

She walked up the stairs to her dorm room and deliberately ignored Lavender's gasp when she saw Hermione's slightly disheveled state. Instead, Hermione climbed into bed, still fully dressed and pulled the hangings tightly shut. She closed her eyes but it was a long time before she fell asleep.

Read and Review please! Thank you so much everyone – yes this was on as an interactive (it's really cool that you're reading it twice, Angels-Giggles!) As for Draco and his Death Eater tendencies… that's for Hermione to find out!


	7. Aftermath

Double Potions the next day was Hermione's trial by acting. It was never her favorite class and she was so reluctant to enter that when she slipped in a minute before the bell she was met by a happy smirk on her Potions Masters face that made her heart fall even more than his harshest sarcastic scolding. Snape had used his uncanny abilities to make sure that on the one day when Hermione had not reread the assigned section of the textbook, there would be a pop quiz. Worse still, the quiz was in pairs and obviously trying to ensure that his favorite got a legitimately good quiz grade, Snape paired Hermione and Draco. Harry was paired with Neville, directly behind Hermione and Draco, although Hermione was unable to help them as, next to Harry, sat Ron and Seamus.

"What next?" Draco called Hermione's attention back to him, giving her a strange look, trying to gauge what had happened last night. He, himself, felt as though he had been living in a dream and a very happy one. He still couldn't believe his defiance, doing exactly what his father hated most and almost daring the older man to find out. Even more stunning was the way Hermione had responded to his (slightly exaggerated) noble sentiments, and the way he had instinctively reacted to her reactions.

It was only Hermione's answer that drew him back to reality, "Add the stewed Flobberworms while I measure out the marshgrass." The blond nodded and complied. Hermione's hands were a little shaky as she teased the grass apart and weighed it on the scale. Ron's eyes boring into her neck didn't help, nor did Draco's slightly more subtle stares. She plucked the grass off the scale absent mindedly and then cried out, "Oh no!" as they fell to the floor and began to wriggle away.

Lavender and Parvati jumped on their table immediately and began to shriek as the Slytherins laughed cruelly and Hermione blushed. Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Neville were already down on their knees picking up the grass and Draco followed suit impulsively, noticing the Slytherins shut up as they begin to wonder what they should be doing… laughing or helping a Mudblood? Draco noted this with some amusement. He might not be the Slytherin prince and be short on friends but he certainly wasn't without influence.

Hermione watched Draco, stunned as he crawled with the rest of the boys. Belatedly, she dropped to her knees and began to gather the nasty snakelike blades of grass. After a moment of despair she immobilized a patch with a clever little freezing charm.

It did not take long for all the grass to be gathered up and Hermione was left sitting on the floor alone. Draco looked down at her, worried, and extended a hand. Without thinking, she took it and let him pull her up until she was standing inches from his body. For a few seconds she was stuck like that. His face was turned towards her neck and she could feel his warm breath that brought her skin to the boil. She knew that she'd been standing there too long but she couldn't move.

"Miss Granger!" Snape's voice could cut through stone and it definitely cut through Hermione's stupor as she jumped away from Draco. "Are you planning to sleep all through this quiz? You're already five minutes behind thanks to you carelessness. Ten points from Gryffindor!"

Hermione's face burned as she returned to work. Draco noticed her mood and decided to refrain from any more sensual stares. Besides, Hermione had begun to work so fast that only his fierce determination not to fail her stopped him from falling behind. As it was, the two finished their Befuddling Draught a quarter hour before the class ended. Snape tested it and grimaced, but allowed them to leave class early. Draco packed his things briskly and leaves. Hermione looked back for a second, disappointed, but he winked and inclined his head towards the door. She responded with a grin and rushed to pack the rest of her ingredients.

As promised, Draco waited behind the door. He grabbed her arm as she passed and pulled her to him, kissing her warmly, holding her waist firmly against his own, his arms wrapped around her so tightly that he could almost touch his own hips again on either side. A giggle almost escaped her lips and he put one finger up to silence her as she bit her lip frantically, trying not to laugh and give them away. He pulled her along with him instead to find a slightly more secluded corridor. Draco noticed that he was clinging to her, and without any alterior motive, sarcasm, or affectedness. He didn't care.

That evening Hermione sat in her room, studying …or trying to. She diligently took notes on the legal process of capturing a rogue dragon, one of the most interesting sections of Magical Law, somehow made incredibly boring not only by the dry old author but also by the euphoric haze that still clouded her mind. Something caught her eye and she turned her head just in time to see a small white object sail in through the window. Hermione jumped up to look for it, spotting it lying evenly on her pillow, a hallmark of magical accuracy. Inside the paper airplane are two words.

Hermione.

Window.

For a second she just stared at it and giggled helplessly, thanking God that none of the other girls were in the dormitory yet. She rushed to the window and leaned out. There was a single pinprick of light, the Lumos charm. The second after Hermione appeared, silhouetted against the lamps in the room, the little light began to move and in the magical residue Hermione could read:

"Willow. Nine tonight."

She smiled and whipped out her own wand. Realizing that he wouldn't be able to read it against the window she wrote on the wall next to it, "OK." Hermione could almost feel his smile as she grinned out at him before dashing back to her desk to finish all her homework in the few hours she had left. Eight to ten was fortunately the typical time for doing homework, and so few people looked up as she passed quietly through the Common Room to "go for a little walk." The girls in her dormitory had waved her away absentmindedly and Hermione hoped to pass out of Gryffindor Tower the same way, but as she approached the portrait hole a familiar shape moved out in front of her.

"Hi, Hermione."

Read and Review please! More (and longer) very very soon.


	8. Angry Word and Broken Hearts

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, wrapping the cloak tighter around herself as if it would help her blend into the upholstery.

"That's not an invisibility cloak, Hermione." He laughs, glad that he still knew her well enough to interpret her idiosyncrasies. He sobered at that thought, choosing the blunt line of questioning. "What's up with you anyway? You haven't been yourself this year?"

"I'm fine." She said, looking past him to the door. Harry sidestepped to reenter her line of vision, his head tilted to the side, grin broadening at her rueful smile.

"Why don't you sit down?" Harry pulls her towards the nearest sofa without waiting for an answer. "We could talk?"

"You need to study and I was going for a walk." Hermione watched his face critically to make sure she hadn't hurt in refusing. Guiltily she realized that she had hardly spoken to Harry since the Weasley's this summer.

He, however, had already anticipated her response. "Ok, I'll let you go. After you tell me what Ron did."

"Ron didn't do anything." Hermione lied smoothly but immediately crinkled her nose. She hated how much lying had suddenly become necessary. Why was everything so complicated this year, she wondered. Harry's raised eyebrows almost made her look away, but with a struggle she maintained the eye contact, never noticing her fingers slowly drifting up to her lips.

"He _kissed_ you?" Harry was shocked, even though he knew full well that Ron liked Hermione… liked her very much. He leaned back as calmly as he could, suddenly realizing that his face had jerked to within a foot of hers.

"I wouldn't really call it a kiss." Hermione demurred, adding to herself "I'd call it a death clamp on my mouth."

"OK, then." Harry swallowed. Hermione almost reached out to hold his hand, sensing his confusion. Harry couldn't rationalize it. He'd done very well with the abstract knowledge that Ron liked the girl who was like his little sister. But no big brother likes to hear that his sister actually got kissed by his best friend, no matter how much he might support the idea objectively. Looking slightly dazed, Harry wandered off back to his dorm leaving Hermione cursing under her breath at all the complications and dashing through the portrait hole, knowing that Harry wouldn't be in the mood to wonder what she was doing for a while.

She pulled aside the curtain of leaves and Draco jumped up. "You're late."

"I know. I'm sorry. I was… delayed." Hermione looked down, not even wanting to think about all the strange happenings with Harry and Ron.

"By who?" Draco presses.

"Does it matter?" Hermione snapped back, regretting it immediately. He only looked at her appealingly and pulled her down onto the carpet of moss, a hand on her upper arm half comfortingly, half possessively. "I'm sorry. Harry was in the Common Room. He wanted to talk."

Draco nodded and Hermione beamed at him, relieved. She knew that it had to be hard for him, not only to be so alienated from his own house, but for her to have two guy friends… or perhaps only one now. Hermione considered this as Draco scooted closer and took her hands. They were icy cold and he immediately blew on them and began rubbing them. "What's wrong? You're all… edgy today." His hands did not leave hers, although the cold half of his mind analyzed her reaction to this, noted that she leaned in towards his chest, and tried to congratulate his reflexes for it. He hated that manipulative part of himself, preferring instead to focus on her and what his intuition was screaming. "Did something happen after you went up to the castle last night?"

Hermione opened her lips to lie again, but she closed them, a tear running unnoticed down her face. Unnoticed by her at least. "I'm so sick of lying!" Draco was shocked. He genuinely didn't understand but that didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around her, kissing her hair, and holding her close to his firm chest with strong arms. For a second, Hermione thought that this guy could be enough for her.

Then she pulled away from him, shifting onto her knees in front of him, taking a hand in hers and examining it down to the carefully manicured nails. "Draco, this isn't going to work. I can't do this anymore!" Her eyes drifted up to meet his, begging him to understand, imploring him not to hate her. "I'm lying to Harry and he's like my brother. I've ruined my friendship with Ron and I can't even concentrate in classes. You saw Potions today! I'm not doing my homework, I'm daydreaming and I… I can't stand lying anymore. I've _never_ lied to them. I don't… I can't… please, Draco…"

Draco didn't attempt to deny that he was hurt and the twitching in his jaw and clenching of his fist showed the anger flickering just below the surface. He nodded, "I should have known." Dirty Mudblood, his brain added, furious, wanting to hit her, wanting to shake her and hold her close to him whether she liked it or not. He was a Malfoy and if he'd chosen her she ought to damn well cooperate. Who was she to turn him down? Then he remembered, she was Granger, Mudblood bookworm extraordinaire, prudish Gryffindor teacher's pet, who had let him kiss her into a wall just outside the Great Hall, who had let him cast a spell over her, who had trusted him, excited him, thrilled him.

He shook his head, and whispered, "I'm glad. Even if it's only two short days… I'm glad." He kissed her forehead and, as he hesitated before pulling away, Hermione felt his breath break warmly upon her forehead. She could almost feel him begging her to take back those words and she wanted to. But she couldn't. Because she did mean it and she couldn't live every day lying to the people she loved. He nodded again, feeling her resolve as she stiffened and he stood and walked away, his form tense with anger. Before the willow curtain he had brushed aside had stilled, Hermione had begun to cry.

Even Lavender, who had been so scandalized by Hermione's disheveled appearance the night before could sense her heartbreak intuitively. The girls banded together as if they had never had their difference to support their fallen classmate, even if they did whisper quietly that it was a miracle she'd found someone to break her heart. Then they saw Ron's ferocity and understood, or so they thought. Last year, Hermione would have found their fussing infuriating, but after Draco with the memory of his body against hers flickering just behind her eyes and the taste of him lingering on her lips, it helps.

She didn't have to go anywhere alone, there was always one of them there and normally more than one. She had been adopted into the flock and they were sweeter to her than she could have imagined. But every time she passed Draco in the hallways she could feel his eyes, staring through all of them, staring at her and it kept her permanently on the edge of tears. Hermione threw herself into her schoolwork with a passion that even Snape could not find fault with. Professor Psyche eventually pulled her over after class and, even with the crowd of Gryffindor girls around Hermione, she disregarded any semblance of authority.

"Hermione, maybe you should take a break. Take tomorrow's class off. It's only going over the test and you have a hundred and twenty seven percent. Take tomorrow off." The other girls immediately clamored their approval, repeating to Professor Psyche how Hermione hadn't slept the night before and how distracted and listless she'd been lately. Hermione's response was only to hang her head.

"Hermione, if you appear in any class tomorrow, I will personally take you back to the hospital wing." The DADA mistress's eyes briefly take on the sheen they had the first day of school and Hermione knew that she was ready to unmask the raw power that had made her sick that first day. She nodded, deciding that taking the day off tomorrow would be preferable to a day and a night in the hospital wing, feeling truly ill. Professor Pysche assured her student that all the teachers would be informed and that she was to stay in bed.

But Hermione quickly found that lying in bed did not help her heartache. By ten o'clock she was so fed up that she threw off the covers and decided to see if she could find something to eat. Late breakfasts were very unofficial but she knew how to get to the kitchens. The house elves rushed to find her all the food they had, which was a lot, and Dobby bantered on as she picked at her food. The food was hard to swallow, but former SPEW-president and founder couldn't bring herself to insult the elves by coming here, troubling them, and then not eating the food. Finally she gave up eating and excused herself, carrying the food with her, saying that she needed to study but promising to eat it all up stairs.

By eleven o'clock Hermione was sick of her dormitory. She knew she had to get out but there was nowhere to go. A huge rainstorm the night below had the willow flooded and deep in mud, but Hermione wanted to be somewhere where she could have the slightest daydream of Draco. Then an idea struck.

"Accio Marauder's Map!"

The map flew into the room and Hermione seized it and tapped it with an eager wand. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." She scanned the map for a few seconds before noticing the little imperfect rectangle labeled "Penelope's Garden." There was no one there and, after biting her lip guiltily, Hermione added another charm. "Accio Invisibility Cloak!"

She entered the Garden, tucking the Map into her robes, sure that no one would come there in the middle of third class, at eleven fifteen in the morning. She moved impatiently to the spot where Draco had kissed her and lay there, pretending that the bent stalk beside her had been crushed by their tumbling. Then Hermione realized that it was not so impossible… it was less than a week earlier that she had been here with him. Less than a week ago, she came back from home.

Sitting there she allowed her head to fall back into the grass, curls spreading out haphazardly. She remembered Draco as he was, before his year in Durmstrang. Arrogant and angry, pure evil, she had thought. But her mind was now awake with new knowledge and fresh eyes. She saw his insults wane, saw him off guard around her. She had never wondered why she had been able to hit him, but having felt his biceps and memorized his body, Draco was no weakling. He must have had feelings for her even then, even though he wouldn't admit it to himself. Then she remembered what he said to her. That he had been sent to Durmstrang because he couldn't stop thinking about her. And that even there he was jealous of Krum because Krum had been her boyfriend.

Had been? Technically, Hermione supposed that Krum still was her boyfriend. Guiltily she remembered that she hadn't really broken up with him. He had written to her and she had gotten the letter just a few days ago, too depressed over Draco to even read it. She hadn't opened it, just tossed it onto her desk and gone back to bed. She wondered if she should even open it, after everything. Even if she was still "with" Krum, Draco really did count as something. And she didn't want that something to be sneaking around and cheating.

Hesitating, torn between wanting to read Krum's slightly stilted by affectionate mumblings and her sudden guilt at her unfaithfulness, Hermione summoned the letter. With it in sight it was a seconds pause before Hermione tore open the envelope to find reassuringly familiar sentiments.

Der Hermione,

I was so happy to se you at the World Championsips this sumer. My English is geting better each day. I kno I havent wrote in a while but I am talkin to the peeple who run the Championsips. I want to play for a English teem next year. I am citizen now. If they don't let me I doant know wether I will play for Bulgaria again or if I will look for a job at Hogwarts for your last yer their.

I havent herd from you in a while. I mis you. I knew that you wood get this at Hogwarts. Plese write back to me. I come se you at Christmas. Dumbledore sayd he wood keep havin Christmas bals. Maybe I come befor then.

I love you, Hermione.

Viktor.

The letter was hardly Shakespeare, Hermione laughed, but she knew that he loved her. Equally, she knew that she didn't love him anymore and that she would have to tell him soon. But how, that Hermione had no idea. How does a sixteen year old girl let adown a twenty one year old internationally famous Quidditch player?

A noise in the garden made her jump. Someone was definitely approaching and shivers ran down Hermione's arms as she thought of Mr. Malfoy. She threw the cloak over herself and waited. She'd grown slightly and she had to jump into a crouching position to be sure that she was covered. Hermione noticed angrily the silver safety pins glistening along the hem of the expensive material and audibly sighed, "Boys."

Read and Review please! More (and longer) very very soon.


	9. Return to Penelope's Garden

Draco walked into the garden. He looked shattered, sullen, angry. Hermione's breath felt sharp in her chest and her heart seemed to fly out and run to him. He began to walk towards her and for a moment she was sure he could see her. He seemed to be looking right into her eyes. Then she remembered, sadly, that she was wearing an invisibility cloak and he couldn't possibly see her. Introspectively, she wondered why he seemed to make her so stupid. She'd always prided herself on being in control, and on task. But now the first boy who came along, well second after Krum, could turn her head and make her forget everything, even herself.

Defying logic, which Miss Granger was fast loosing her own grip on, Draco continued to head directly for her. Purposefully. Belatedly, Hermione remembered why she had chosen this spot, that this was where they had lain, kissing and holding and hugging. She instantly moved away so that she wouldn't be sat upon, but Draco's mind was not dulled by sorrow. He saw the grass move at her feet and instantly drew his wand, speaking in a sharp voice, consciously firm and angry. "Who's there? One of Lord Voldemort's spies? Or just some nosy Slytherin?"

Hermione debated with herself whether to answer him as he continued to approach.

"Come on. What are you afraid of? Me? I'm not even a Death Eater yet. I probably don't even have the will to attack you."

Draco now seemed confident that he was alone, either that or Hermione guessed he must have fallen into such a huge despair that he had ceased to care. Simply that thought made her heart twinge in pain, no matter how her rational mind tried to scold it. He's just a boy, she tried to tell herself, but as he turned his back she followed him impulsively. He walked to the edge of the pool and Hermione remembered what he had wanted… to test the two of them there. Hermione found herself closer to the edge than she had intended to be and Draco is there, lounging on the stone nearest the water, looking in. From her reading in the past few listless days, Hermione had come to understand the pool's role in Penelope's death. It swallowed love that wasn't true enough and now Hermione found herself on the brink of the water, and quite possibly death, for no logical reason.

Even lovesick, Hermione pulled back. She tried to convince herself that it was for him, that looking in while under the Invisibility Cloak would be robbing Draco of what he had wanted to see and learn. Really though, she knew that she was unwilling to let a Slytherin pool test what she wasn't sure of herself. She gathered herself up to leave, feeling almost gratified that their love hadn't passed _her_ test. Maybe this was all some silly infatuation that could be forgotten. It was some chemical hormonal reaction to the first boy who had kissed her properly, not love, and certainly not worth all this fuss over. Straightening up, Hermione moved to walk away but froze when she saw Lucius Malfoy stride through the archway into the garden.

"Draco, why aren't you in class?" The man's voice was so authoritarian and… Slytherin that Hermione shivered. Draco, on the other hand, didn't even deign to look at his father.

"Why Father? Are you worried that some Muggle-loving fool is missing the opportunity to sway me from Lord Voldemort's coattails?" Draco drawled. His tone was filled with such loathing that Hermione wanted to slap him, just to bring him out of his self pity. It was robbing her of her new found conviction and she didn't like that at all.

"Lord Voldemort's strength requires your best. Nothing less is acceptable. I thought he explained that to you on your birthday."

"And if I don't, he'll kill me."

"You would do better to devote your time to your studies than to this kind of treachorous thought. Even my position in his circle will not protect your insolent tongue!"

"Why should I bother being protected? So I can kill Muggles and Muggle-borns? What a profession, Father! I can hardly wait!" Draco's voice was filled with sarcasm and hate and Hermione found herself wondering if he would have made such a remark a few years ago. But Lucius didn't seem surprised, which astonished Hermione further. Draco had always seemed so subservient to his father, but to hear him talk in such a way… Hermione was dumbfounded.

"I see that you need some incentive, Draco. Just wait. Lord Voldemort can give you everything you've ever wished for, and more." With that, Mr. Malfoy stalked off, letting Hermione exhale in relief.

"Whoever is under that cloak had better come out, before I make you!" 

Draco's wand was out and, with his Father's words still ringing in the air, he hardly needed further provocation. Looking down, Hermione could see her own feet sticking out of the pinned up hem. She sighed and removed the cloak.

"Hermione!" He gasped.

"Hi, Draco." If the words sounded weak and insubstantial in her head, they sounded even worse aloud.

"What are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm, pulling her to him swiftly and cradling her softly in his arms. By contrast his tone was angry. "Do you have any idea what could have happened if my father had bumped you? Or seen you? Or any Slytherin?"

"You're a Slytherin and the worst that's happening to me is that I'm getting yelled at."

His overprotectiveness was reasserting itself, but strangely it amused Hermione instead of irking her. She was more annoyed at the loss of his arms as he began to pull her out of the garden hissing, "That's hardly the point! Now put that cloak on."

All her new resolve replaced with a firmer conviction, Hermione pulled Draco to a stop and he whirled around to look at her. "Draco, I'm sorry."

"For what?" He tried to pull her along again.

"For saying what I said." Hermione took in a deep breath and continued at about three hundred miles a minute. "It wasn't anything you did... honest it wasn't, it's just that I had to hide us from everyone and when I got up to Gryffindor Tower Ron was waiting. He was so angry, and I hurt his feelings horribly, and then he kissed me and I didn't feel anything...except I was angry and then he's all hurt and I can't even look at him. I mean, he likes me and I don't like him and I don't even know what I'm supposed to feel about that...should I be guilty or sad or angry or... I don't even know what I'm supposed to be! And now Harry knows so they're going to have a fight about that and it'll all be my fault and everyone is being so nice to me and I can't even smile at them. The girls are dragging me around everywhere and being so sweet and all I am is a wet rag over it all because I just can't be happy because I can't forget about you and I don't even want to forget about you because I was so happy with you and I messed it up all by myself. And I was just being stupid and overanalyzing things cause I couldn't understand why you were being nice to me and worse I couldn't understand why I was being nice to you and nothing seemed to make sense anymore and I just didn't feel like me. But worse is that I'm so stupid because I just hurt the guy I love just so that I-"

"You said love." He interrupted, suddenly springing out of his stunned listening.

"I did." Hermione seemed as surprised as he was.

"I'm glad you said that."

"Me too."

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two. Hermione couldn't take her eyes from his and she found herself trembling. Several times Draco opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again. He watched Hermione as she did the same, immediately dismissing each comment as ridiculous. Each moved forward a few times, occasionally lifting a hand or an arm.

Finally they were close enough to touch each other, faces merely inches a part. And for a second, both hesitated, wondering what they were doing there: a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, a Death-Eater-in-training and a Muggle-born, a boy and a girl. Then they kissed properly and all doubts were thrown aside in the realization that, whoever they were, they didn't particularly care at that moment. Behind them, the pool rippled as though in satisfaction although neither Draco, holding Hermione as close to him as he could fit her, nor Hermione herself, lying under Draco with her tongue dancing on his, were in a position to notice.

For all of you who were distressed about the break up… hope you enjoyed! Read and Review please!


	10. An ally at last

Hermione's life began to settle into a routine, though one far different than she would ever have imagined. Every day she spent pretending to be Hermione, getting over hearbreak, and spending every spare minute doing work ostensibly as a distraction. In reality she'd found that through careful budgeting of her time she could finish most of her work before nine at which point she would take a long walk. These strolls would inevitably lead to the Willow, her haven.

There Draco waited for her, quite surprised at his own behavior. He had never been one to wait for a girl before and while he had told himself that he liked being with her because it gave him the knowledge that he was defying Voldemort and his father, he couldn't deny that she made him laugh all by herself and that the kisses they shared were leaving him increasingly less fulfilled.

When winter set in, both were surprised. With the first snow, the Willow ceased to be an option and they had to content themselves with empty corners. Finally Hermione "borrowed" the Marauders' Map again and led Draco into the tunnel that lead to Honeyduke's basement, one that she was sure wouldn't be used for a while as the boys seemed preoccupied enough with Quidditch. But even there winter crept in. Water trickled through the passage and both Hermione and Draco began to receive knowing or incredulous looks from the house elves who did the laundry as the poor elves had to scrub away increasing amounts of mud on their clothing.

One day, Hermione finally came out with it. "I'm filthy. We can't stay here."

Draco laughed and tucked her head under his chin so she could feel as well as hear his words. "When did you turn into such a silly girl, eh?" He tickled her hips and held her as she bucked involuntarily against him.

Regaining control over herself and slapping him lightly on the arm she continued, "I mean, people will notice the mud, even under our cloaks and I know the house elves are talking."

"The house elves?" Draco checked his derisive tone instantly upon seeing her face. "Sorry, old habit."

Hermione sighed and leaned back on him, allowing one hand to drift up to trace his bicep through his shirt. "I think there might be somewhere else we could meet: no heavy kissing, but we could talk there and it would probably be safe."

"How firm would the no kissing policy be?" Draco asked, and grinned as Hermione pushed him away. He leaned back to nibble her ear, making her giggle helplessly. He knew it was one of her sensitive spots and felt an odd surge of pride at being privilege to such knowledge. "Ok, it sounds great. Where?"

That was the point where Hermione started to feel uneasy. She twisted her head over her shoulder to look back at him. "I have to talk to someone about it."

"Hermione!" Draco sat bolt upright. "You know that this has to be a secret! My dad'd kill you and then Lord Voldemort would go to work on you. No one can know!"

"Look, Draco, I'm not stupid!" Hermione had regained her balance around him. "But if we want this to go on, we'll have to risk it. It comes down to how badly you want us to be together. I'll risk it because the only person I'd tell would be someone who wouldn't ever tell another soul. Ever. He's one of my best friends."

"Pot—Harry?"

"No." Hermione sat up and faced him completely. "Just tell me if you want to be together… that's all I need to know." He wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled her lips to his.

Hermione knocked on the big wooden door, taking a deep breath to reassure herself. This was Hagrid, the one who looked after her in third year when Harry and Ron wouldn't speak to her because of Scabbers… Pettigrew really, but still! Hagrid always looked after Hermione and she was sure he would help. He had to.

The half giant opened the door and she forced a smile onto her face. "Hermione!" He engulfed her in a big bear hug. "Someone I hav'nt seen much o' thi' year! How's school?" A hand on her back propelled her inside.

"Fine, Hagrid. A lot of work but it's fun." Hagrid nodded, puttering around, fetching out tea and milk and his rock-hard rock cakes. Hermione allowed herself a true smile, having preempted him. "Hagrid, I brought you some cakes from the kitchens. Dobby gave them to me."

His smile was so wide that for a second Hermione forgot about Draco entirely. But it all came back when, after two cups of tea, Hagrid asked her how Ron was. "Y' hav'nt been comin' t' see me all t'gether th' way y' used to? Is sommat wrong, Hermione?"

"We had an argument." Hagrid raises his bushy eyebrows and she smiled cynically. "It's all right though."

"Meanin' y' hav'nt talked all year."

Hermione smiled. "Not for a few months." She took a long sip of her tea. "But I needed to ask you a favor, Hagrid. And I'm not sure if you'll like it.

"Ask away, Hermione. Ain't nothin' I wouldn' do fer you."

She grinned at his gruff affection. "I have…" Hermione blushed. She had never thought it would be this hard to confess. "There's this boy."

"Ah!" Hermione saw Hagrid hand snake out towards his crossbow.

"No, not what you think! He's… He's in Slytherin house." Hagrid's face immediately darkened even further. "But I don't think he belongs there any more. I don't think he does either. You see, he's been away and now he's come back he's… really sweet."

"Y' love 'im?"

"Mmm…" Hermione demurred. But Hagrid waited for her. "I do." She confessed, feeling her face heat even more.

"Aye. Then 'ow can I help ye?"

Shorter chappie I know, but Read and Review please! (and thank you everyone who's reviewed… means a lot, as always!)


	11. A New Era

Draco felt faint, though he would never have admitted it, when Hermione casually mentioned that she had told a certain oversize oaf about their relationship. "Hagrid?" He barely managed not to scream. "He can't keep a secret! And he hates me!" Hermione only smiled in response, ignoring his distress completely, as though maternally waiting for him to recover himself and apologize. Well that wasn't likely, thought the young Slytherin.

In actual fact, Hermione was amused, rather than dismissive. Even with Draco's new growth and the rather stunning muscles she had recently become aware of, she was sure Hagrid would stand at least a foot above Draco. Somehow that felt like a little bit of the payback she was still confident he owed her, but she had been disinclined to collect as of yet.

As they got closer, Draco's hand tightened around Hermione's. Feeling a little nervous herself she attempted to reassure him. "You just be nice, Draco. He says that he just wants to meet you and then he'll leave."

Draco screeched to a halt. "Meet… Hermione, you did tell him that it was me."

"What?" Hermione brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

"You told him my name."

Oh…, Hermione bit her lip. "No… I told him that you're a Slytherin and that I love you. He's promised to be good too."

Draco was less than reassured. "Hermione, he hates me."

"Hagrid doesn't hate anyone." Hermione dismissed him as she did Harry or Ron when they were being silly and attempted to pull him along. He didn't move. After a few moments she turned and took his face in her hands instead. "Do you trust me?" He nodded. Hermione leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. "Good." She bounced a little as she pulled away, walking backwards, holding both his hands in hers. "Then come and meet Hagrid."

Draco followed slightly less enthusiastically and they stood on the doorstep, hand in hand, as Hermione knocked.

Hagrid came out smiling broadly. "Hallo Hermione, an' thi' must be… Malfoy?" Hagrid's face contorted and his hands balled into fists.

"Hagrid!" Hermione stepped forward and gently pried his hands flat, leaving Draco free to back up a few steps. "This is my… boyfriend, I guess that's the word, isn't it?" She seemed more preoccupied by the correct terminology than by the seemingly imminent fight, and Draco decided to step back a few more paces.

Hagrid pulled Hermione in closer to him, holding her arm firmly and leaning down to hiss in her ear, "Hermione! Y' gotta be kiddin'. 'E's a Malfoy! 'E tried t' get me kicked ou' I swear!"

"I'm sorry." Hermione and Hagrid turned to Draco, identical looks of shock on their faces. "I'm sorry, Hagrid. I know you won't trust me, but I do love Hermione." And please don't hit me, Draco added silently. A black eye would raise some questions.

Hagrid seemed slightly off kilter after the apology but he continued to object. "'E called ye a Mudblood!" Hagrid pointed childishly. "Y' can't trust 'im."

"People change, Hagrid. And he's apologized." Draco couldn't help but laugh at Hermione's odd sense of justice. "Now come on. Let's have a cup of tea, hmm?" Hagrid continued to glare but Hermione bossily took one of each's hands and led them inside, chastising the pair, "Both of you, grow up!"

Reluctantly, the two shook the hands that Hermione outstretched for them. Hagrid was still glaring and Draco's smile was rather shaky, but Hermione supposed it would have to do. At least she had remembered to bring more cakes from the kitchen: Draco looked so humble and scared that he might have taken one of Hagrid's rock cakes and tried to eat it!

As suspected Hagrid and Draco took a while to get used to each other. But in a few weeks, which was far less than any of them had expected (especially with both Draco and Hagrid banking on never) Hagrid grudgingly admitted that Draco had changed. Hermione felt somewhat justified, that it was not just her who had seen the new Draco, that she wasn't being taken in. And the evenings in Hagrid's house had become far more fun.

Draco, she noticed, had developed an interest in dragons. This development was so interestingly timed that Hermione found herself wondering if Draco hadn't decided that it might be a good idea to create some common ground with the half-giant by cultivating this interest. Even so, after a few days, dragons became a near-daily topic in the cabin.

Using his unlimited wealth, Draco bought all kinds of fascinating books filled with diagrams, pictures, essays and advice. Hermione would sit on his lap and the two would read them together, finding interesting passages to read aloud to Hagrid. Draco doubted that she would have been better pleased with the gems and jewelry that he would have bought for any other girl. He even found himself less annoyed than anticipated that Hagrid's admission that the Slytherin had changed was not enough to pursuade the erstwhile oaf to leave them alone together.

Hermione herself felt that this was better, especially as Draco never let her go into Gryffindor Tower without thoroughly investigating a little niche with her. But despite the indescribable pleasure of his body on hers, kissing in the hallways, and his smoldering looks before his mouth descended once more; listening to his voice rumble in his chest as he reads quotes about a Norwegian Ridgeback hatched in captivity in England is better. She listened idly, using half her attention to reread her Potions textbook, as the two men speculated if this particular dragon could be Norbert. Hermione smiled, remembering the silence that had become all too tense when Norbert's name had first come up. After all, Draco had told McGonagall about the dragon.

Draco intuitively felt the smile and, although he didn't know the reason and certainly would have found the memory more awkward and nervous than amusing, he pulled her closer and kissed her hair, wrapping a long arm around her. Happily, he heard her soft sigh.

Then someone knocked on the door and he had to check her fall as she spilled out of his lap, both leaping up at the same time. Hagrid looked just as frantic. "In wit' Fang, under the quilt!" he hissed as Ron's voice called through the door.

"Oi, Hagrid! Open up!"

Hermione and Draco dashed to the bed and jumped in. Hagrid looked back at them once before opening the door.

"Hallo Ron! And 'Arry!" Hagrid's voice boomed. Hermione found all this quite funny, but more funny-odd than funny-amusing. Despite all her warm kisses and daydreams about Draco, being in bed with him, Hagrid's bed to make it worse, even under the circumstances, is still highly awkward. Draco seemed to feel much the same, coupled with the genuine panic he felt whenever he thought they might be discovered. Hermione smiled, thinking it rather sweet in a highly unnecessarily overprotective way.

"Hi, Hagrid." Harry said. Ron was suspiciously quiet and Hermione could almost feel his eyes glaring through Fang and the quilt. Now who's being paranoid, she scolded herself. "How are you?"

"Aye, I'm fine. Just fine." Hagrid's nervousness was apparent and Hermione flinched, knowing that Harry would pick up on this. Just please, she prayed, don't let them mention…

"Have you seen Hermione?" Ron asks and she knew she was done for.

"Her- Hermione?" His voice was too high, anyone could tell. "No, no, not at all." The pair could hear the boards creak as Hagrid shifted his weight.

"I think she's off with some guy." Ron said and Hermione grimaced. Draco dared to extend a hand to her and she took it, grasping it.

"Now, why d'ye think that? Bloody silly idea. Our Hermione off with some fella!" Hagrid was panicking and Ron clearly wasn't buying any of it.

"She goes out every night and stays out for ages. She'd come back muddy as hell a few weeks ago, but now she's just coming back singing."

"Well 'oo d'ye think she's out wit'. Not one of th' Gryffindor lads?" Hermione allowed herself a small sigh of relief, perhaps that would throw them off. "Maybe she was havin' a relationship but if ye say she ain't comin' back muddy no more, then I wager it's done wit'' With the word relationship, Hermione's hopes died. Harry would know for certain (and probably Ron too) that Hagrid knew something.

Ron however blundered on. "I know it sounds stupid, Hagrid. But the way Hermione's been acting. She's not herself at all! I… I want to kill whoever made her like this!" Hermione squeezed Draco's hand, Ron sounded absolutely furious. Little did she know that Draco was quite the opposite of afraid… he was furious at Ron for being selfish! He couldn't even be happy for the girl he said he liked! No, any altruistic daydreams of doing right by Hermione and giving her up to that prat had dissipated.

The two lay there, under the covers, listening to Ron's death threats become increasingly incoherent, until Harry reminded him about a Divination paper and Ron reluctantly left, still muttering. Harry turned around, shutting the door behind his friend. "Hagrid, where's Hermione hiding?"

"I… er, I…"

"Better still, Hermione, come out?"

She sighed and looked towards Draco. She couldn't see his expression be he squeezed and released her hand. Nodding, though rather pointlessly she realized a few seconds late, Hermione slipped out from under the blanket, a little flushed but not only from the stuffiness under the quilt.

"Hi, Hermione." Harry reached over to help her past Hagrid's pile of clutter. Taking his hands, rather thankfully, Hermione leaned on him to get out to the table where Hagrid had pulled out a chair for her. Harry waited expectantly, still looking back at the bed.

"'Arry?"

Harry didn't turn around. "Is your friend joining us or is he going to pretend he's not there?"

Wow… greatest feeling in the world to open my inbox and see the whole first page filled with review alerts! Thank you every one so much! Keep the R+R up and I'll keep updating and writing longer and longer chappies! (bribery, I know) Harry's reaction up next… hope it meets with everyone's (aka Smile88's) expectations!


	12. Harry

"What friend?" Hermione asked glibly.

Harry raised his eyebrows and walked over to the bed, watching Hermione as he said, "Come out, Malfoy."

She gasped, as he expected. "You knew?"

"I do now." Harry turns to face Draco, pulling his wand against the Slytherin's throat in what was clearly a planned more. "Confundous Hex? Or a special Slytherin-exclusive one?" Harry brandished his wand threateningly, and Draco stopped mid reach. His hand hovered just over the opening to his robe and to his wand. His eyes had met Hermione's, big, brown and scared. Once again, and not happily, he forced himself to trust her and raised his arms carefully, hands spread. His eyes never left hers.

"Harry stop it!" Hermione ran at him and tried to yank his hand down, pointing it away from Draco in case of a misfire. Harry looked at his friend, surprised as he easily fought her off after years of Quidditch training.

"I'm really sorry, Hermione. Stupefy!" His wand was pointed at her and she flew against the wall of Hagrid's cabin. Snarling, Draco lept towards her as fast as he could. Hagrid took it upon himself to tackle an increasingly bewildered Harry.

"Stu—Stupefy!" another voice cried. Draco fell against the floor weekly, barely managing not to collapse on Hermione. He was rudely shoved aside as a voice whispered, "Ennervate!" and Hermione's vision cleared to show the last person she would have expected…

"Neville!"

Neville paused halfway through the window, wand still pointed at the prone Draco. Harry was standing over Hermione, wand out. Hermione yelped and tried to stand, but fell back. Hagrid reached over, pushed Harry out of the way, and bodily lifted the girl. He held her up, hands tight on her shoulders, until she regained her balance. However one step towards Draco later, Hermione had collapsed into Harry, who caught her gallantly, only to be rewarded by a fierce glare and a harsh shove when she had her feet again. Her mind, however, finally began to grasp the situation and she turned to Neville, still halfway through the window, bewildered and more than a little frightened.

"Neville, it's ok. What did you do to him?" Hermione tried to keep the fear out of her voice. Before the DA, Hermione would have dismissed the boy as almost a Squib and not given the curse a second thought. But now… Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat.

"I… I Stunned him. What he did to you." Harry began to stutter incoherently, but a single glance from the furious Gryffindor girl shut him up.

"Its all right, Neville." Hermione reassured him in what she hoped was a comforting voice. "We were just having a little fight. Thanks." The last word came reluctantly; even pretending to thank Neville for Stunning Draco was hard. Snatching Harry's wand, not sure where her own was, Hermione leaned over to revive Draco. "Ennervate."

He groaned and shifted forward, falling into Hermione and she held him. "Neville, If McGonagall finds out she'll be angry that you were Stunning anyone. Draco won't get into trouble. Not with Snape." Thankfully Neville took the hint, hopped inelegantly back through the window and ran. In one corner of her mind, Hermione suspected that the boy was more scared to be around when Draco woke up than he was of any punishment that McGonagall might give him.

As soon as the three were confident that Neville was gone, Hagrid gently pulled Hermione away and lifted Draco up. He seemed to be recovering more quickly than Hermione had, and he reached out a hand to the girl. Instantly, she ran to him and held him tight. He held her back, hand in her hair, as if he would never let her go. Right now that didn't sound like a bad idea, she was warm, safe, and quite stabilizing for his shaky balance. Too quickly she began to pull him away, "Come on," pulling his arm around her shoulders without him even asking. Gratefully, and partially involuntarily, he leaned on her as they pushed past Harry.

Suddenly, Draco stopped. "Hermione, wait."

"What is it?"

"You don't want to leave it like this." Hermione looked at him, completely dumbstruck. "Harry's your friend, you don't want to lose him like this."

"Draco, let's go." Draco could tell that she was trying to keep her temper and not succeeding. So he held her there and braced himself for the explosion. He didn't have to wait long. "Are you mindless? He Stunned you, Draco! He hates you. Now can we go?"

"Hermione." Draco turned her to face him and planted a kiss on her forehead, holding her a little far south of the waist. "I love you and I won't let you lose your friends because of me. It's bad enough that one of us is alone, we don't need two miserable people here. Hey," He saw the tears that she hadn't even felt running down her cheeks. "I'm ok, it's all ok, it's ok." He hugged her close, wondering how much she was crying for: him? Harry? Ron? Things he didn't even know about?

Hermione snuck a look at Harry, who was watching her, completely astounded, and realized that her friend had never seen her yield to someone. She realized that her friend, her best friend, hadn't seen a lot of her life. And it wasn't his fault.

Even with that thought, sitting down at Hagrid's familiar table wasn't easy with both Draco and Harry there. Hermione and Hagrid sat like moderators between them, although Draco privately thought there was more need for a moderator between Hermione and Harry. Slowly, his girlfriend (that word made him grin even in less than pleasant circumstances) explained what she had to. Telling Harry that they had been together since the first week of school, and that she had concealed it, was hard. Explaining the silence wasn't easy either.

Harry sat there, speechless, just staring at Hermione, never taking his eyes from her face. She found herself blushing heavily and alternating her glances between Draco and Hagrid and becoming increasingly interested in the colour of her tea. When she had said everything, she dared to look at him again. He nodded and hoarsely asked, "Why?"

"Why what?" Draco asked, decided that Hermione had been through quite enough alone. He reached out his hand to her, under the table. She took it gratefully.

"Why didn't you tell me, Hermione?" The girl winced as he added her name, making it impossible for Draco to answer it for her.

"Voldemort." She managed finally, ignoring Hagrid's flinching and muttering. Harry looked confused. "A Death-Eater and a Mudblood." She snapped, the word seeming unfamiliar after all this time, yet still painful.

Draco thought it a fit moment to interject, "I'm not a Death-Eater Potter. I'm supposed to be in training. If He finds out though, he'll kill Hermione." Draco had admitted to himself a few months ago that he was scared not just for himself if his erstwhile defiance and now love was found out. Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly. He smiled in spite of himself; she was worth the risk.

Read and Review Please! More soon-ish (busy weekend, but I'll try!)

Sorry Harry didn't get to attack Draco… I think if he had, Draco wouldn't have walked away the beautiful boy we know and love. But I think Harry actually handled it fairly well… all things considered.


	13. The Yule Ball

Hermione looked up from her Painkiller's essay and Standard Potions textbook to see Harry leaning over the table. "Sorry, what?" She asked, realizing that he had asked her a question.

"Who are you going to the Yule Ball with?" Hermione's mouth fell open. She hadn't spoken to Harry since Hagrid's cabin and wasn't sure that she would have chosen this to be their first conversation. "Are you going with Krum?" Harry persisted.

"No." Hermione looked down. "I sent him a letter about three months ago, ending it." She tried not to watch shock and betrayal flit over his face again as he realized again how much she had concealed from him in the last months. He must be wondering what I else I haven't told him, Hermione fretted. But Krum hadn't told anyone about the break up and so, neither had she. That seemed only fair.

Especially as she didn't understand why Krum hadn't told. The gossip that had started with Rita Skeeter's scandalous article had stopped about a year and a half ago but there were always mutterings whenever Krum was seen, alone, at public events. He had kept the label "cradle-robber" and Hermione had no doubt that news of the break would only have helped. Thinking intelligently, she realized that Krum had been too quiet and was about to begin musing about his intentions when she happened to look up and see Harry. Frankly she was surprised that he was still there.

Realizing that he had her attention once more, and glad he was still fit to judge that after years of watching Hermione's deep in thought waking comas, Harry spoke. "I want to help, Hermione."

She grabbed her books up off the table, forgetting to use magic in her anger. The scroll was still wet and it smudged. Hermione winced, knowing that the spell to fix that was painstaking and slow. Harry grabbed her hand.

"What can you do?" She snapped at him and pulled away. "Tell Ron that no one will be asking me this year so he can take his sweet time?"

Harry ignored the provocation, and leaned in. "I can take you to the ball. That way he knows and he won't get jealous and you can still get dressed up and look beautiful… for him."

Hermione grimaced. She knew that he was right. She wanted to go to the ball, but Draco was not a possibility in the date department. Krum neither. Harry was the only one she could be sure things would stay "just friends" with.

Draco took the news fairly well. She blurted it all out in another 500 mile-a-minute monologue which he answered with a stoic nod. "I suppose people would wonder why you didn't have a date." Hermione reached out to him, to hold him, but he pulled away. It hurt her but she understood that she had just hurt him far more.

Up in the dormitory, the girls were thrilled that she'd gotten over her heartache. "We're all going to buy dresses for each other! It'll be so much fun! You must join in!" They clawed at her arms and squeezed her, fluttering and chirping around in the manner of sixteen-year-old girls. Sometimes, Hermione wondered what it would have been like if she hadn't made friends with Harry and Ron. She supposed the girls would have eventually adopted her and made a project of her. Would it have changed her, to be happy and carefree? What would it be like if she didn't learn with a passion and have a determination to scour the school library, and any other she could access, for spells: spells to defeat those who Death has a grip on. Spells to defeat Voldemort.

But she wasn't like them, and she shook her head at their kind foolishness and quietly approached Parvati. "Can you help me find a dress for Lavendar? I don't want her to go in something horrid and I couldn't even guess her size!" Parvati looked flattered and hugged the bookworm.

"Of course!" Hermione smiled and returned the hug. It was different, she concluded, but nice to have girlfriends.

A week later when Parvati showed Hermione the robes she had found for Lavendar, the girl gaped. They were gorgeous. Parvati had outdone herself: the baby pink would suit Lavendar's glossy brown hair perfectly and she silky sheen of the dress was alluring, even to sensible Hermione. When Lavendar saw it she squealed and immediately tried it on, the girls watching as it slipped down in one fluid movement and even Hermione's mouth curved into a small "o" at how well it accentuated her thin form. Lavendar, after a moment of admiring, threw her arms around Hermione, who gasped but happily. She felt oddly included; odd in that for once she didn't feel that the inclusion was deliberate and orchestrated.

Her comfort changed to shock when she saw her dress. In a daring shade of reddish burgundy, it was certainly the most revealing thing she'd ever owned. The underdress was strapless and formfitting (with the aid of a few flicks of Parvati's wand to make it lie perfectly), and it flared out on the underside of her hips into rippling folds that enchanted Hermione as she spun that she forgot about the overrobe until the girls pulled her away from the mirror, laughing kindly, and pulled her arms into the gold and burgundy net, feeding her hands through the swallow tailed wrists and clipping it delicately at the base of her throat, letting it sweep out from their. They backed away as a group, leaving Hermione feeling oddly helpless in front of the mirror.

Thank you, she breathed. The color brought out tanned tones in her skin and red ones in her hair. She saw an hourglass figure that she had never even noticed, but apparently Parvati had. The girls once again pulled her away from the mirrors and smiled indulgently as she hugged each of them in turn. An hour later they were less accommodating as they found her curled up in her bed behind the curtains with a book. Dragging her out, they quickly pressed the creases out of her dress with several spells and shoved her into a chair. She was forced to sit patiently as Parvati straightened her hair and fastened little golden butterflies into it and Lavendar brushed eye shadow over her eyelids and tucked a dark red lipstick into the girl's purse. When they gave her back her book as a bribe while Parvati finished the last touches on her hair, Hermione had caught the excitement so badly that even she couldn't read.

Feeling slightly giddy, she stole a last glance at her reflection before going down to meet Harry. A stranger smiled back. This must be the girl Draco saw, she concluded. This was her. And, beautiful as her reflection was, she found herself hurrying down the stairs in the back of an informal hierarchy of seventh year girls, impatient to see Draco. And for him to see her.

When she met Harry at the bottom of the stairs, she managed to distractedly note that he looked quite handsome in his dark green robes. Guiltily she remembered that he shouldn't be going with her. He should be going with Cho. Hermione bit her lip as she thought of Cho, sitting alone in her dormitory tonight, praying for Cedric as she had every year since he died. But that's not what she should be thinking of, she told herself, not tonight. Cedric wouldn't have wanted that.

Then she realized that she had paused, deep in thought, on the last step. Heads were turned towards her and some looked almost as surprised as they had in fourth year. Parvati was happily basking in the glory of quickly spreading praise at the transformation and Hermione found herself feeling unpleasantly like a doll that the girls had dressed up. She wanted desperately to get to Draco, and took Harry's arm insistently. He smiled, "You look beautiful."

For a fleeting instant, Hermione felt sure that Harry was looking at her in the same way Draco did when he was lying over her, ready to kiss her, teasing her by making her wait for it. She wasn't sure if even Harry could keep it just friends, and the thought of being some pretty doll made her purse her lips in distaste. She looked away from Harry, and her gaze fell on Ron. He was standing there, with Lavendar talking to him, but he was looking at her. She blushed under his stare and offered a shaky smile. He smiled back and looks down at his date. Hermione stepped backwards slightly, wishing that she could even say hello to Ron. Instead she turned back to Harry, who's eyes were purely platonic once again, and he lead her down into the Hall.

The Hall was truly stunning. Christmas trees lined the walls, decked in house colors: a Hufflepuff tree flanked by a tree adorned with lions and red and gold banners on one side, and one resplendent in green and silver bows and silver snakes twining around the branches, their scales throwing the light onto the Ravenclaw tree where birds carefully dodged and pecked at the shining light as though it were magic itself. Hermione's eyes followed the alternating Houses all the way around the Hall but found herself looking less for lions yawning majestically, or birds preening, but for a certain white gold head.

When she finally turned back to Harry, slightly disappointed, she looked past him and inhaled sharply. A dark haired man, older than the students, was approaching with his head down but a walk too distinctive for Hermione to mistake. The turned heads and murmurs that followed him were another hint.

"Viktor!" He looked up from his slouch and smiled.

"Hi, Hermowninny."

"I didn't… I had no… I didn't think you'd come." Hermione winced at the pathetic sound of her own words.

"I vonted to see you. I had to see you. You're beautivul." Hermione blushed as Krum's eyes scanned her, very aware that he was twenty-one years old and could have had a million and one girlfriends instead of you. "Can ve talk?"

Hermione opened her mouth then changed her mind. She supposed that she owed Krum that much and turned to Harry, feeling a little as though she were neglecting him already. "Do you mind? I kind of have to."

Harry smiled, not seeming offended in the least. "No problem." He offered Krum a grin too, and they shook hands before Krum lead Hermione from the hall. She found herself glancing around in the hope of seeing a flash of blond hair, but found herself sitting on a bench outside before she could see much of anything.

"You are vell?" Krum asked cordially. Hermione nodded, plastering a smile on her face. "Good… I got your letter." He looked down.

"Yeah." Hermione genuinely couldn't think of anything to say.

Krum reached into his pocket and pulled out her letter, still in the original envelope. He pulled it out and opened it. The creases in the parchment were beginning to fray, betraying many foldings and unfoldings, and countless readings. "Vere you sure?" Hermione nodded resolutely. "Herm-own-ie" He made an extraordinary attempt to say her name correctly. "Please. Think again. Vonce more. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Viktor. I'm sorry."

"Vhy? Hermowninny, vhy?" He grabbed her arm and she winced slightly as the gold threat cut into her arm.

"We're two different. You're twenty-one for Merlin's sake." Hermione genuinely tried to make it sound as though it weren't him, and especially weren't anyone else, and also not to show him that his grip hurt.

"You didn't mind two vears ago." Hermione shook her head and looked away. He reached over and pulled her chin back to him, looking her in the eyes through his bushy eyebrows. After Ron's angry kiss, this one was almost romantic. Krum wasn't angry with her, only sad and desperate to win her back. But even feeling that, Hermione could respond. She could see Draco's face and then Rita Skeeter's article from Fourth Year flashed in her mind. "Harry Potter's Secret Heartache… A plain but ambitious girl… She's really ugly but quite brainy… she'd be up to making a love potion. I think that's how she's doing it. … A plain but ambitious girl… really ugly…" Even the memory made Hermione pull away.

Krum watched her from his slitted eyes. "You like somevon else?" He asked.

Hermione's new contempt for lying after the Harry fiasco made her nod. At least, she comforted herself, he wasn't asking who. Krum nodded back. She felt terrible, he looked terrible. Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek and hugged him. Awkwardly he wrapped his arms around her too. "Come on, it's cold out here. Why don't you come inside?"

Krum nodded again, like a lost little boy, and took her hand so she could lead him back in. When they reached the door he pulled her back. "Hermowninny…"

"Yes?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." Krum walked with her back into the Hall. When they were within fifteen feet of Harry he pulled away and walked off without another good-bye. Hermione looked back at him, concerned until someone ran headlong into her.

Only her assailant's quick reflexes saved her. She looked up at Ron Weasley, the last person she could talk to. He looked terrified and began to stutter incoherently. "Hi, Ron." Hermione forced herself to smile at him, and he returned the gesture shakily, belatedly remembering to take his hands away from her waist. "We haven't talked much lately."

"No." He still stared at her.

"How've you been?" Hermione wasn't sure what to say to him, when they hadn't spoken in several months. The question was awkward, but she did want to know.

"Alright. You?"

"Alright." The two exchanged another round of shaky smiling.

"You… you look really beautiful." His tone was so hesitant that Hermione knew he was worried about whether he was allowed to say that. Maybe he did have the emotional range of something larger than a teaspoon…

"Thank yu."

He smiled again as a new, slow, song was struck up, looking at her assessingly. "Do you want to dance?"

"What about Lavendar?" Hermione didn't want to hurt her new friend's feelings… or Ron's.

"She's gone to fix her make-up, again." Hermione tried to hide a laugh but didn't succeed. Ron joined her.

"Harry might—"

"Please dance with me." He cut her off as politely as possible and the please made it churlish to refuse, so Hermione reluctantly took his hand.

The evening was fun, more fun than Hermione would have expected. She couldn't find Draco, but she danced with all the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw boys in her year and a few from Hufflepuff and other years. On one "breather" she glanced over at the Slytherin table and finally caught a glimpse of Draco.

He had elected to go alone and sat with the remnants of his House, not talking and not being talked to. Hermione couldn't take her eyes from him. She absorbed his deep midnight robes, the open neck of his shirt that showed his strong neck and a hint of the many muscles she knew covered his chest. The entire ensemble calculatedly accented his icy hotness and Hermione couldn't help but be entranced. He looked back at her and smiled slightly, raising his eyebrows and sauntering through an arch that lead towards the kichens.

Excusing herself, murmuring about fresh air, stretching her legs, and walking in the cool, Hermione followed him. He was waiting just beyond the arch. Hermione stopped and turned for a second and they just looked at each other. His eyes roved her body, taking in the dress and lingering on the skin that lay bare above it.

"I only wish you wore it for me." Draco said finally, unable to keep the rueful edge out of his voice.

Hermione grinned, and took one of his hands to stroke his fingers. "I did wear it for you, silly. You've just been hiding all night so I couldn't show you. And I don't care what anyone else thinks, so long as you like it."

"You should care what they think, Hermione." He cupped her face in his hands. "Because they all agree with me." He leaned in and kissed her softly. His fingers edged towards her hair as hers twined themselves in his sleek blond locks. When he touched her hair, Hermione pulled back. "They'll know."

Draco said nothing, waiting for her. After only a second, a smile broke across her face. "Who cares?" She leaned in and kissed him again. He hesitated only a second before turning them around so he could press her against the wall.

"Dance with me."

"What?" Hermione pushed him away slightly. His face was buried in her neck and she could have misheard him.

"You heard. Dance with me."

Hermione forced the air out of her lungs. "We can't, Draco. You know that."

"Who cares?" He murmured into his collarbone, knowing that his kisses were clouding her mind and his good judgment had disappeared months back when he realized that he loved her. "Voldemort…" She managed.

"Who's going to tell him?" Draco leaned back and smiled recklessly. "You think that he's got a spy here? He isn't watching Hogwarts. He isn't watching me. He doesn't expect this. He would never expect me to be in love with you."

Although her heart soared as his voice lingered on the word love, Hermione forced herself to squeeze his hand and say, "We can't risk it, Draco. I don't want to even risk him finding out."

"Do you remember when you wanted to tell Hagrid? You said, "Just tell me if you want to be together… that's all I need to know." It's the same thing now. Do you want to be together?"

"You do know how to throw my words back at me, don't you?" Hermione laughed.

He grinned back devilishly and kissed her cheek. "Well you're always right aren't you? Who better to quote?"

"Hmmm." Hermione said skeptically as she wiped lipstick off his lips and he licked it off her chin, neck and collarbone. Hermione giggled helplessly until he pulled away and smiled at her. She reapplied Lavendar's lipstick quick;y, laughing to herself: what would Lavendar say if she knew what the goody two shoes had been up to?

Draco took Hermione's hand and lead her back into the Hall. No one turned to look, there were no screams, curses, gasps or fireworks. It felt oddly anticlimactic, but Hermione couldn't help looking around and wondering when someone would notice. And if that person's notice would be as fatal as she feared. But even with that thought, Hermione pulled Draco to a stop by her chair. With deliberately slow speed she slipped the gold overrobe from her shoulders and down her back. Draco stared at her, obviously pleased. She turned back to him, and a slow song began to play. He took her hand and led her to the middle of the floor.

Draco turned Hermione around in a circle, smiling proudly, before pulling her snugly against him. Having her that close against him, in public, completely openly, felt better than he'd imagined. He couldn't help but grin at finally being able to declare to the world that she was his, to run his fingers up and down her forearms and feel her shiver against him. He let his fingers run along her bare back, under her hair, and up and down her spine. He felt her sigh. Perfect.

There… a nice long chapter. Sorry no Harry-Hula, though I got a good laugh out of that review! I want to see the Jesse Mccartney/Tom Felton crossover boy too, that sounds gorgeous. Ron's reaction up next… Ron and the rest of Hogwarts. Should be interesting! Thanks for the reviews, please don't stop! I'm greedy!


	14. More Misunderstandings

When the song ended, Hermione reluctantly looked up from where her face had been buried in Draco's hair. A ring had formed around the two, unabashedly staring. Harry and Ron stand a few feet inside the circle, Harry with one eye on Ron, and Ron… Hermione reluctantly stopped turning and separated from Draco.

Everyone was still staring. Draco chose to stare back defiantly, still holding her hand, but Hermione couldn't even meet the eyes of the fourth years, the youngest at the ball. She understood that they would receive the same reaction from even the first years! The animosity between herself, Harry and Ron, and Draco was legend in the school. She had glimpsed the first years sitting at their tables, wide eyed, staring at Harry's school photo with an older student whispering in their ears and passing three other photographs over their shoulders.

The first photo would be accompanied by a highly exaggerated anecdote. "Here's his best friend, Ron Weasley. Remember back in their second year when Harry saved Ron's little sister Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets?"

The next photo was inevitably Draco's. "That's Harry's enemy, Draco Malfoy. His father works for Voldemort and he's practically a Death Eater already. I swear, the Sorting Hat yelled Slytherin before it hit his head. Couldn't bear to touch something that evil."

The fourth photograph was Hermione's own, and she recalled hearing their voices drop as they saw her, but never stopping their whispering. "That's his other friend, Hermione. She's even prettier this year and damn smart. At least a hundred in each class and as sharp as they come. She's Viktor Krum's girlfriend, you know, the Bulgarian Seeker from the World Cup a few years back? But everyone knows Ron's madly in love with her."

Now what will the first years hear, Hermione wondered helplessly as she faced her uprooted, confused and angry classmates. If they couldn't understand, how would anyone else?

For a merciful few seconds, no one had moved but Ron finally stopped shaking and, brandishing his wand, took a few steps forward and leveled the wand directly at Draco. His hand didn't even twitch and there was murder in his eyes. Hermione started to move to stand between them but Draco held her back easily with their joined hands. Ron saw the movement in Draco's shoulder. "One move Malfoy and I swear—" he began. Lavendar dashed up to his side and tried to pull his wand arm down. Hermione took her chance to step between the wand and Draco. Ron dropped his arm instantly, and stared at her, instead. She began to think she would rather have had the wand pointed at her than his disappointment and pain. Those emotions passed quickly and returned to anger that looked through her.

Dumbledore chose that moment to break through the crowd and raise his hands. Professors McGonagall, Psyche, Snape and Flitwick all close behind and Hagrid towering above all. "What is the problem here?" Dumbeldore asked quietly as McGonagall snatched the wand from Ron's hand as it began to rise again.

"She… Malfoy… He's hexed… I swear, she'd never…" Ron wouldn't stop stuttering.

Harry broke in, his voice harsh. "There's no problem here, Professor."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows characteristically. "Is that so, Mr. Potter? Why, then, is everyone staring at Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy?" The last question was addressed to the group in general. Hermione found herself blushing, wondering how long Dumbledore had known about their going-ons. McGonagall, spinning Ron's wand nervously through her fingers, clearly had had no idea. Snape, although motionless, was even having trouble concealing his surprise. Professor Psyche merely smiled serenely.

Seamus chose to answer Dumbledore's question. "Headmaster, Ron's right! Hermione'd never… dance with Malfoy. He's hexed her somehow."

Hermione's angry retort was drowned out by the clamor of agreement. Draco quickly seized Hermione's elbows and held her back from hitting Seamus. But eventually her yells became audible.

"What is your problem? What, you can't believe that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin could dance together? Or that anyone at all, with the exception of Viktor who obviously has had a Bludger too many, anyone besides him could look at me and think "Gee, maybe she'd be fun to dance with, not because she's my friend, or helps me with my homework, or is in my house, but because she's a girl." No! That's too impossible for your narrow minded, bigoted brains to take in and I can't believe that I—" Draco clapped a hand over her mouth, silencing her effectively.

"You're only making it worse, Hermione." He said. "Look, get Harry to take you back to your dormitory. Let everyone cool off. It was a stupid idea anyway." With that, he pushed her lightly towards Harry and disappeared into the crowd before Hermione could get another word out. Ron started after him but McGonagall stopped him with a hand on his chest. Hermione was left with no other option but to take Harry's arm, which he offered anxiously, glancing back at Ron, and allow him to fend off the rest of the school and lead her back to the dormitory.

Within half an hour Hermione was waiting inside Hagrid's cabin, hoping he would come. Hagrid, she assumed, was still at the ball and she certainly should be in Gryffindor Tower. Summoning Harry's Firebolt wasn't the right thing to do, especially after dragging him away from the ball like that, not to mention completely embarrassing him.

Nevertheless the door creaks open and there stands Draco. "How did I know you'd be here?" He folded his arms in mock anger, leaning against the doorframe and raised a blond eyebrow.

Hermione smiled in relief. "Because I never listen to you."

"Damn right you don't, you little idiot." He took both her hands and kissed her on the nose, before pulling her into his arms with his chin resting on the top of her head. "You stupid, stupid girl. Why did you do that?"

"Dance with you or lecture the entire school?" Hermione asked as he pulled her over to sit on the bed, side by side.

"Both?" He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Hermione smiled and it only encouraged him. He held her neck in his hands and kissed all the way down her throat onto her collarbone. She kissed him back as he removed her gold overrobe and brushed his hands across her shoulders. But a few kisses later when she felt his hand against the fastenings of the back of her dress she pushed him away. He looked into her eyes, startled. "What?"

Hermione tried to smile and scoff but the memory of his hands on her back, waist and knotted in her hair was too close. "Draco, do you… what did… we… this is too fast."

She bit her lip at the cliché phrase. A phrase she had always scoffed at until she found herself unceremoniously dumped in this situation. This was worse than when her brain had seemed to come disconnected after his first kiss. Now her brain worked, her mouth was just not as cooperative.

It took Draco a few minutes to grasp her meaning. "Hermione, what did you think…" He trailed off too. "Hermione, I'd never—"

"I know you'd never!" She snapped and grabbed the gold robe from the floor where he had let it fall. "I know you wouldn't do anything that I didn't want to do and that nothing has happened and that I'm completely overreacting to nothing and all but… aaagh!"

Hermione through her hands in the air and, as he reached out compulsively to comfort her, the flying robe snapped sharply against his face. He reached up to cup his face and through his fingers, Hermione could see a red mark from where the metal thread had hit him. She reached out to help him before remembering and letting out another frustrated cry. She threw her face into her hands, and after running her fingers through her hair a few times, she fled the cabin.

If she had looked back as she was running to Gryffindor Tower she would have seen Draco on his knees on the rough dirty floor in his immaculate silk robes, picking up not only the golden robe, but every little golden butterfly that her frustrated antics had shaken loose.

Short chapter I know, but more will come soon, I promise. Read and Review please!


	15. Ron

Hermione was still crying when she reached Gryffindor Tower and mumbled out the password. The slightly swaying Fat Lady tried to ask questions but Hermione just pushed her portrait open and slipped past. Inside the Common Room was silent, an eerie sight on Christmas. A few bits of tinsel still hung here and there but the other decorations looked sad and forced. Hermione just sat down on the sofa and cried. Almost instantly she felt warm arms wrap around her and pull her against a firm chest. For a minute she wondered if it was Draco but when she looked down and saw that the pants ended a few inches above the boy's ankles she cried harder. "Shh, shhh… It's ok." He kissed the top of her head and rocked her gently, for once not seeming awkward. Hermione just bawled into his chest and he pulled her round until she was on his lap and continued to stroke her hair until she fell asleep.

The next morning Hermione woke up to feel a warm body next to her. She blinked and saw red… literally. She slowly reached out a hand and touched Ron's flaming head just to make sure it was him. His head rolled against her hand and he woke up slowly. "Hullo," he said huskily, still half asleep.

"Hi." Hermione managed, although her own voice was very quiet.

"I'm sorry." They chorused, looked at each other, and laughed, separating their entangled limbs. "No, really Ron, I am."

"Was it him… from the beginning?" Hermione nodded. "And he made you happy?" Ron's voice broke on the word happy. Hermione nodded again. "And he made you cry?" She nodded again, feeling the tears prick in the back of her eyes. He pulled her back against him, hugging her tightly, rocking her comfortingly but muttering, "Why? Why a Malfoy? What the hell were you doing, Hermione? Why did it have to be him? Why did you have to leave me? Why?" Hermione found herself crying again, but even in the early morning light, Ron didn't shy away. He held her close to him as though he'd never let her go.

The Gryffindors didn't see Draco for several days. It was awkward but in some ways, better. Ron never left Hermione's side and everyone seemed very anxious to put the ball behind them. Well, shove would be a better word. The only person who seemed to bear a grudge was Lavender, who was ticked that Ron had ignored her all night and chose to blame Hermione. But there were worse things, concluded Hermione, from the shelter of Ron's arm. Like possibly breaking up with Draco, that would be the worst thing.

McGonagall had finally announced that they would begin their practical learning of human transfiguration and it was enough for the bookworm to loose herself in. Turning animals into things was one thing, but after studying the laws on human transfiguration for the past four months even Hermione was nervous.

"What must you always say before beginning your spell? Ah, Miss Granger."

"You must ask, "Do I have your consent for this one transfiguration into a…" Hermione spread her hands to show that anything could be put in the blank. "It's Code Fifteen Eleven, Restriction B, under the Wizarding Anti-Enslavement Laws."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor for such a precise answer. And you may perform the first transfiguration. Any volunteers? Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Step right up."

Hermione's face blanched at the very thought of transfiguring Draco. The first rule was not to let emotions touch her spells, but could she separate her emotions from Draco? And could McGonagall really be expecting her to? The girl shot a helpless glance at her teacher, who did not meet her eyes.

Draco stepped up to the front of the classroom, his face calm. Hermione could see the flicker of a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his lip. He had tried to cover them but not done very well. It struck Hermione that maybe he'd run out of strength to cover these if there had been others before. Her heart broke for him. But Draco's lip didn't quiver and he walked on confidently. As he passed Hermione's chair he whispered, "I had to." She exhaled sharply and pushed herself up from the chair, using her palms on the table for leverage. For some reason her legs were too weak to support her. She heard Ron shifting in his chair, ready to either pounce on Draco or catch Hermione.

"Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall tapped her wand impatiently. Draco looked at Hermione with a slight smile. He knew that she had been ignoring him and was now deliberately—and dangerously—putting himself in her path.

"I was just reviewing the spell in my head, Professor. Which animal will I be transforming… transforming Mr. Malfoy into?"

McGonagall ignored Hermione's slight falter and thought for only a second before pronouncing, "A snake, I believe, would be most appropriate. Its always easiest to transfigure a person into the animal that they are kin to. As a Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy's affinity should be with snakes. Is that not true, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, ma'am." For the first time Malfoy looked nervous and Hermione understood why. If, using the affinity spell, he did not become a snake it would be all too clear, and publicly so, that he was no longer a Slytherin.

Hermione made eyecontact and he smiled slightly ruefully. She was amazed at his resolve. If he was caught, Voldemort could become suspicious. But under McGonagall's glare and with no suitable excuse, she had no choice. She had to perform the spell. Quietly she asked fro his permission and he gave it. "Affinio Animango Avanto!" She cried. He became…

As she feared. When she opened her eyes it was not a snake. A handsome strong lion paced the dais in front of the classroom where Draco had stood. Professor McGonagall looked surprised but didn't hush the bubbles of talk that had broken out all over the room. Hermione could see their mouths move but couldn't hear the words. The world seemed to have become muted as McGonagall waved her wand and brought Draco back to his normal state.

"What the hell are you playing at, Granger?" Draco exclaimed in his most disgusted derisive tone. The world burst into sound and colour as Hermione recoiled from his shout. "Just because I danced with you doesn't mean you can try and convince my I'm not a Slytherin." He searched his pockets and yanked out a little piece of whittled wood. Draco threw it on the ground by Hermione's feet. "Your little charm to make me a Gryffindor? It didn't work! I'm a Malfoy, not some filthy little M—" Professor McGonagall cut him off with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"That's quite enough, Mr. Malfoy." She waved her wand, "Accio wood" and the little toy flew into her hand. She examined it. Hermione looked too and saw a miniature Gryffindor lines. There were runes on it too, fairly crude ones, but ones for affinity, masking and deceit. They were dead on the wood, obviously having been used up in a spell.

"Miss Granger, does this belong to you?" McGonagall looked at her favorite student from over her glasses. Beside the teacher, Draco glared at the girl as though he despised her. That look of loathing on his face just broke Hermione's heart. She burst into tears, something that she never did in public, and ran from the classroom. Behind her, she heard chairs being shoved away from tables and falling over, shouts and a few shoves, and Professor McGonagall yelling over it all.

When the doors to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom creaked open, Hermione jumped. Ron poked his head in and saw her. "I kinda thought you'd be here," he offered.

"Mmm." She forced a smile and waved her arm in one sweeping gesture. "I always said that this was the place where no one else came. Until I told you two."

He smiled and sat beside her on the stone floor. For a few seconds he just shifted his weight awkwardly. Then he looked at her and put a hand to her face, pulling the finger away wet with her tears. She bit her lip to stop another sob.

He slowly put his arm around her again, and she leaned into him, sobbing into his shirt, just glad to have him there. When her tears had slowed slightly, Ron started to speak. "You love him. You love a Slytherin."

"I thought he'd changed." Hermione cried and curled up into him, hiding her face.

"Oh you stupid soppy girl." He sounded positively disgusted with her, but the insult confirmed that they were friends again. Hermione only sobbed harder. "Barking mad. I thought you were smarter than that, 'Mione. Didn't you learn anything from having me and Harry as your friends."

"Harry and I." Hermione corrected, halfheartedly. He laughed and pulled her closer. 

---

There we are. Ron, Ron and more Ron. Now doesn't he surprise you with his maturity? Sorry, I love Ron, I had to have him have a good moment here. Thanks for all the reviews! Keep 'em coming please! 


	16. Hagrid's Cabin

After weeks of huddling in the dimmest corner of the softly lit Gryffindor Common room, Hermione began to feel like a victim of cabin fever. At least Ron, who was more faithful than ever, had Quidditch practice to let off steam. He sat with her, every night, working on his homework and thinking up jokes to amuse her but it didn't change the fact that she had the overwhelming urge to run ten miles or hit someone. She didn't particularly mind which. By the end of the second week even Ron's supply of jokes was wearing thin and Hermione decided she had had enough.

"Ron, can you walk down to Hagrid's with me?" Hermione asked. Ron looked up, surprised. For the past eight days his friend had hardly said anything and only in answer to a direct question.

"Sure!" Ron tossed his books aside, earning him raised eyebrows from the one-time homework enforcer. However Hermione flicked her wand a few times and his books flew up to his room, hers to hers. For a second she felt a twinge of regret, remembering how much Summoning and Banishing she had done in order to meet up with Draco. Honesty was far easier, she decided, but mastery of those two charms was certainly helpful.

Hermione pulled her cape from the back of her chair and Ron helped her wrap it around herself. His fingers lingered slightly on her bare neck but the touch was so brief that a second's glance was all she needed to confirm that it was simply an accident.

Together the two walked out of the portrait hole, down the stairs, through a half dozen archways and then they were outside. Hermione inhaled deeply and sighed happily, earning herself an odd look from Ron. He had no idea how brilliant it was to be outside for the first time in nine days. Deep snowfalls had cancelled Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology and now Hermione wondered if her headache might have been partially from the stuffiness of the castle in the winter. At any rate, her heart seemed lighter for a bit of crisp air.

Ron helped her across the snow drifts and they walked up to Hagrid's door together and Ron knocked on the heavy wood, smiling at the snowflakes that had come to rest in Hermione's hair. His smile disappeared when Draco answered the door.

"Hermione!" The Slytherin breathed her name, stepping forward and reaching out to her. She stepped back into Ron. Draco checked himself immediately. "Can we talk?" He asked, carefully maintaining his distance. Ron wrapped a protective arm around Hermione and pulled his wand from his pocket.

But Hermione, over her initial shock at seeing Draco so close, pulled away from Ron. "I'm perfectly able to take care of myself." She pushed his wand down, ignoring his skeptical snort. "Is Hagrid here?" Hermione shot Draco a meaningful glance.

"Yes." He answered quickly. "He's just inside. He can look after Hermione if that's what you're worried about Weasley. Although she's pretty good at looking after herself."

"Apparently not, Malfoy. She believed you." Ron didn't ease his grip on his wand.

"Weasley walk out of here before you start burping slugs again." Draco's wand jumped to his hand.

"You just watch it or you'll be burping up worse. And stay the hell away from Hermione." Ron stepped forward.

Hermione jumped between them, laying a hand on each of their chests, holding them apart. "Both of you stop it. And stop talking about me like I'm not here. I'm perfectly able to take care of myself, by myself. Now, Ron, you go back to the dorm. Draco, go… wherever you Slytherins go. And I am going to go see Hagrid. Alright?" Hermione began to walk through the door but halted as Draco stepped aside to let her pass, moving onto the top step with Ron. "If either one of you so much as touches the other one… wand or fist, I'll tell McGonagall myself!" With that, Hermione stomped inside and waited for Draco to walk towards the castle, loop back behind the trees and come in the back door.

Sooner than she expected the door creaked open and Hermione whirled round, expecting to see a slightly panting Draco, out of breath from running to her. Instead she blinked and tried to see into the stranger's hood. "Excuse me? Are you a friend of Hagrids?"

The cloaked figure only looked up and smiled. Something about that smile was disconcerting. "You must be Miss Granger." Hermione could have sworn there was an extra "s" on that "miss." The stranger's voice was hiss-like and rather icy.

Hermione smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, Hermione Granger." The man nodded and Hermione found herself wishing that Draco would hurry up and get here. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name…?"

"I didn't give it." Hermione stepped backwards and bumped into Hagrid's table. The voice continued, "You're more skittish than I would have thought, considering you dared to walk in Penelope's Garden."

Hermione edged around the table. The robed stranger just stood, head cocked, watching her. His thin lips, just visible under his hood, were curved into a grim smile. "How do you know about the Garden?"

"I have every right to know about it. The more interesting question is, how did a Gryffindor girl find out?" The smile widened. "Unfortunately for young Malfoy, there are ways of telling the strength of love in that Garden. Only for a Slytherin adept of course. Which, unfortunamely, I am."

"Who are you?" Hermione now felt the wall of the cabin against her back.

"I don't think that you would care to know, Miss Granger, even if I would tell you. Now… _Imperio_!"

The curse struck Hermione hard. It had been two years since Moody's—well, Barty Crouch pretending to be Moody's—class. Two years since she'd fought her own mind. The icy voice cut into her thoughts, "Don't be stupid. I told Crouch to teach you that. I wouldn't use it that way against you know. But I have other ways of using this spell. Now… tell me about your relationship with Harry Potter."

In her last free breath Hermione managed one word, "Voldemort." The thin smile only widened.

.

"Hermione? Hermione?" Someone was shaking her shoulder. The girl blinked rapidly and saw Professor Psyche leaning over her.

"Professor?"

Psyche smiles in relief, leaning back on her heels as she helped Hermione sit up. "What are you doing here?" Hermione blinked lethargically around at the middle of the castle green. "Hermione, did you go somewhere last night."

"No. At least, I don't think so, Professor. Its all a little hazy for some reason." Hermione looked over at her teacher to find the young woman trying to conceal a rapidly growing concern. "What time is it?"

"Eight." The professor answered absently. "My morning stroll… Have you been out here all night?"

"I might have." Hermione tried to think through the thick fog clouding her mind.

Professor Psyche muttered something under her breath. "Hermione, can you stand?" Even with the Professor's aid, Hermione collapsed back down onto the grass. "Lie down, Hermione." Psyche waves her wand and whispered an incantation. Dumbledore appeared on the grass beside them.

"Eleanor, what is...?"

"Father—don't worry, Hermione knows already—I was walking this morning when I found Miss Granger out here. She's almost no memory of last night."

Dumbledore's eyes flicked down to where Hermione lay on the grass. "How peculiar." He smiled at her, pulling three lemon drops out of his robes and passing them around. "Not something most people experience, Miss Granger, but not to worry I'm sure. Perhaps Poppy should have a quick look and then I would recommend the day off. Considering your admirable attendance record, I wouldn't worry." Hermione, sucking on the sweet, smiled back at him feeling the sudden surge of fear quelled comfortingly.

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Sorry about the delay in updating, but I will definitely have another chapter up, maybe even tonight…

Oh for those who asked about Hermione and Draco's fight after the Yule Ball... Basically she just got spooked about going too fast and she thought that, since they were alone on a bed, something might happen. Basically the irrational bookworm coming through!


	17. The League

Madam Pomfrey did not look happy to see Hermione. "Three students loose their memories in one night! All of them found outside in the morning! This isn't an infirmary issue… I haven't seen so much trouble since there were Dementors outside the walls. Honestly, do they think its just some fluke that three students—"

"Three?" Hermione finally caught on.

"Oh yes," continued Madam Pomfrey, pulling off Hermione's cloak absentmindedly as she continued complaining. "Longbottom and Finnigan missed Mr. Weasley this morning and went looking for him: found him outside the front entrance. Sick as a dog he is. Couldn't even keep the chocolate down. And then Lucius Malfoy comes storming into the staff meeting demanding to know where his son is." Hermione's breath faltered and the nurse felt for her pulse, never breaking her stream of words. "Apparently his tracking spell failed, although why he had one on his own son…" The nurse trailed off, huffing imperiously.

"Is Dr… Malfoy okay?"

"Oh fine, to be sure." Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "He threw up his chocolate too, but he seems calmer than Weasley, that's for sure. Now—" She handed Hermione the largest chunk of chocolate the girl had ever seen, even larger than after the Dementors almost Kissed Harry. "Eat up!"

Hermione nodded and forced a smile. She broke off a chunk and nibbled it. Suddenly, instead of the warmth she had expected, chills washed like waves over her. She felt so ill that she put a hand to her throbbing head before she fell to the floor.

Hermione woke up in a hospital bed just in time to hear Madam Pomfrey complain "all three of them, Headmaster. It just isn't right. I must insist that you call the League. There is no illness that could find three students, from two different houses, wipe their memories and carry them outside. And then the aversion to chocolate… It's just wrong, Headmaster. I've never seen anything like it, I swear—"

"Poppy, my dear," Dumbledore's voice cut off the nurse kindly. "I agree. Minerva, please send an owl to the League informing them of the situation." Hermione heard McGonagall turn and leave and closed her eyes as Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey's footsteps sounded closer.

"And Miss Granger is awake," Dumbledore raised his voice unnecessarily, but it gave Hermione time to sit up and stop pretending. "No doubt you've learned plenty already." The wizened old wizard poked his head around the curtain. "How do you feel, Miss Granger?"

"Somewhat better, Headmaster." Dumbledore smiled pleasantly and waited. Hermione grinned, feeling foolish that he could read her mind so easily. "I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I couldn't help overhearing it. Which League were you referring to?" Madam Pomfrey began to stutter in the background.

Dumbledore raised a hand to silence her. "The League against the Dark Arts." Hermione's eyes widened, but Dumbledore covered her hand with his own. "Madam Pomfrey feels there is something in your sudden disease that may be… less than natural. Poppy has always been overprotective of the students, and precautions keep her happy. I wouldn't worry, Miss Granger."

"Headmaster, please. What do you think it is?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, the normal twinkle in his eyes subtly veiled. "I think it is worth looking into."

Hermione nodded. "And the boys? Ron and Draco? Please, are they alright?"

"I would like them to be checked over but I will admit, you worry me most. You and Hagrid."

"Hagrid?" Hermione sat up straighter.

"He has disappeared, Miss Granger." Hermione sank back against her pillows, tears stirring. "I would not have told you if you couldn't cope." The Headmaster said firmly, looking deep into her eyes. "I need you to remember. More than that, I need you to be alert."

"Of course, Headmaster." Dumbledore nodded, standing up once more, and smiled down on Hermione.

Dumbledore wasn't present at the League's investigation the next day. She found herself standing alone, fiddling slightly nervously with the hem of her school skirt as she was asked again, what she remembered, what the chocolate had done, what she had felt since, and who she had spoken to the day before. Hermione answered their questions quietly, feeling very out of place, surrounded by the formality of these old bent wizards.

After their hundredth dry "I see" they frowned at each other solemnly and a few of the younger, though still very old, wizards poked the older ones who had dozed off. The oldest of all's eyes fluttered open and he squinted at Hermione. "Well, thank you for your cooperation, Miss Granger." Hermione smiled politely and nodded at the circle before opening the door to leave.

"Ooomph!" said the door. Hermione stifled a giggle and walked through, closing the door behind her.

"Can you hear much?" She asked a slightly flattened Ron.

"Some. The door muffles everything." He whispered back, looking at her anxiously.

"You're very pale." Hermione commented, realizing that Madam Pomfrey had not been exaggerating when she said he looked as sick as a dog.

Ron shrugged. "Almost as bad as the slugs. Can't you do anything about this?" He jerked his thumb towards the door.

"Larficaero!" A bubble appeared and Hermione put her head up to it, motioning for Ron to do the same. Suddenly they could hear every word. "Better?"

"Much!" Ron grinned at her, before they both turned their attention to the conversation within.

"The first boy, Lucius's son seemed well enough. The Weasley lad was obviously sick to his stomach and that last girl doesn't remember a goddamn thing half the time."

"That's hardly her fault, Godfrey. Dumbledore says she's a remarkable student."

"She's Harry Potter's girlfriend, isn't that right?" Hermione's face burned and she could hear Ron cover a laugh.

"No. Viktor Krum. You know, the Bulgarian Seeker from the World Cup back, oh about, two… three years ago?"

"Ah yes! The man who broke his nose! Bit old for her, isn't he?"

"Well, she's a pretty girl and he's an excellent Quidditch player. Seems a good enough relationship if it's lasted this long, eh Albie?"

The Gryffindors could hear a muffled cough from "Albie" and then a vacant "Yes, quite so, quite so."

"Could we get back to the point?" asked an impatient voice. Hermione nodded vehemently, even though they couldn't see her. "What do you think is wrong with them?"

"Well the girl probably just hexed Hagrid and then accidentally backfired something on herself. It's sad how many pretty girls do that. My friend on the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad, he says he sees more pretty girls than any other department. No wonder he never settled down."

One of the two witches cut in on the conspiratorial laughter. "She seems bright enough. There may be something quite wrong with her. And whatever Arthur's son's got we don't want it spread."

"But what do we do with them?" asked a rather cowed male voice.

"Well if we don't know what's wrong with them it's rather hard to decide what to do with them?"

"Did someone mention Krum?" asked a voice Hermione had previously identified as Albie.

"You're a little behind the times, Father."

"Who are you?" The ancient man asked suspiciously.

"I'm your son!" answered the reassuring voice.

"I don't have a son!" squeaked Albie.

"Oh never mind, go back to sleep. Now, about the students, I see an opportunity to deal with Malfoy here and now…"

"Deal with him?"

"Well he's a Death Eater for sure." Hermione stiffened. "A Slytherin here, went to Durmstrang and a Malfoy. What further proof do we need? I say send them home and let their parents look after them a while. At least Malfoy won't be learning anymore."

"Forget Lucius's boy a minute. Miss Granger is a Muggleborn. We can hardly explain everything to her parents!"

"Explain what? She's sick and she has to stay home for a week or two." Ron looped his arm around Hermione who looked devastated at the thought of being sent away from Hogwarts.

"Dark magic!" A voice objected angrily. "The Muggles wouldn't recognize it if it hit them on the nose! We can't risk something getting out of control!"

"But whatever Arthur's son's got could kill half the school?" Hermione pulled away slightly. "The child looks almost dead of it already."

"What about quarantine? Here? The Muggles won't know anything about it, so no explaining. The Weasley boy won't spread whatever's eating him and we can control what Lucius's brat learns."

Hermione opened her mouth indignantly but before she could get a word out Ron had clapped a hand over her lips. "Do you want them to know we're listening?" He whispered furiously.

"Mph! Mmmmphf! Mmmfin Murfph-mphs!"

Ron ignored her as he pulled her through a few archways into a nearby room, only releasing her to close the heavy oak door. The second it closed, Hermione almost screeched "Quarantine!" She threw up her hands exasperatedly. "I can't go into quarantine, my God. Those mangy gi—"

"Hermione!" Ron cut her off, pulling her to a stop as she strode towards the door, presumably to take on the entire League by herself. "They're just trying to look out for the rest of the school. And us!"

"Oh yes!" Hermione threw him off, pacing furiously. "Limiting what we learn so Draco doesn't learn anything is really looking out for us! I'll fail my exams! I won't learn the theory of apparition! I won't—"

"Stop it!" Ron shook her shoulders slightly. "Remember back in second year when you turned yourself into a cat? You didn't fall behind and you were in here for weeks."

"Exams were cancelled!"

"It's rather pathetic that all you're worried about is homework. I'd be more worried about catching what Weasley's got" drawled a voice from the corner.

"Draco!" Hermione ran to him.

Draco looked stunned. However angry, Hermione had been with him, she couldn't believe that he'd look as though he never expected her to forgive him. His expression was so different that she actually stopped a few feet from him. "What's wrong with you?" She asked.

"Nothing, why?" His tone was so derisive that Hermione backed up a few steps.

"I don't know… There's something very odd… you're acting funny."

"Me?" Draco actually looked panicked.

"Yeah." Even Ron agreed.

"Its probably just the spell or whatever we got." Draco answered glibly. "An aftereffect. Don't worry about it." The boy walked up and cautiously took Hermione's hands.

She smiled and squeezed them before turning back to Ron, hugging him. "I'm so glad we're all safe!" In Ron's ear she whispered, "There's something wrong with Draco. Very wrong."

Ron hugged her a little tighter. When he released her, Hermione forced herself to reach out to Draco. He took her hand and his touch chilled her. She looked into his eyes and found none of that icy hot love that thrilled her. At that moment Hermione decided that perhaps there was one advantage to quarantine: she could keep a closer eye on Draco. He seemed to need it.

---

Read and Review please… I love seeing reviews in my inbox!


	18. Project Draco

A/N for those who asked… Quarantine is when people who may have been exposed to some kind of disease or substance are put in isolation to stop them from spreading the disease. Hope that clears things up.

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Hermione couldn't help but feel like Draco was studying her. He stared, but didn't speak. When she could goad him into conversation he seemed angry and bitter… not Draco at all. Hermione, in turn, asked for piles and piles of books, insisting that she needed them for her NEWT extended essay and application for a merit scholarship. The books included almost every book that the library had cross-referenced for the Dark enchantment's effects on personality.

Finally Hermione ruled it down to the Imperius Curse. Unfortunately, that meant that the person pulling the strings had to be one of Voldemort's servants and that thought chilled her blood. It would seem that they had found out about her and Draco, and now he was being punished for it. But, the part of her mind that wasn't overwhelmed with guilt protested, why would a Death Eater leave her unharmed? She was a "Mudblood" to them and they would have no qualms about killing her, let alone controlling, attacking or hurting her.

The next day, Hermione's rational mind had another protest. Draco hadn't just changed his personality, she realized, he seemed to have lost great swathes of his memory. If Draco was truly under the Imperius Curse, he would still remember everything that had passed between them and no doubt his puppeteer would use that information to their advantage.

Finally Hermione decided that knowing the worst was better than being nagged by her own mind. There must be some way of identifying the curse and Hermione had a fairly good idea of where to find the spell to do it. Getting her hands on "Dark Methods and their Weaknesses" would be more tricky as she doubted the League would fancy passing a book of dubious nature onto a girl who happened to be in close quarters with a boy they thought was a Death Eater.

Hermione felt like screaming. She threw open the curtains in her hospital room and pressed her face against the cool metal bars… more a jail than a quarantine… As she opened her eyes she saw a small white shape silhouetted against the dark sky. Gripping her wand tightly she called out, "Hedwig!" Sure enough, Harry's snowy white owl banked and flew to the arm she had extended through the bars. After stroking the bird softly and being rewarded by soft coos, Hermione very politely asked the bird to wait.

Dashing over to her desk, looking behind her to make sure Hedwig was still there, Hermione hastily penned a note and tied it to Hedwig's leg. The circling bird landed on her arm and held out her leg expectantly. Hermione grinned and petted the bird again, showering her with well-deserved endearments. Hedwig pecked Hermione's fingers affectionately, ruffled her feathers, and flew off into the sky.

The next morning Harry was surprised by the sharp corner of Hermione's folded note hitting him squarely on the head, causing him to choke on his pumpkin juice. Hedwig perched on his goblet as soon as he set it down and watched as he leaned back and picked the note off the floor, where it had fallen. He glanced at the envelope, recognized the handwriting, and stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth. Holding a hand to Hedwig, who chose a piece of bacon from Harry's abandoned plate, the boy walked quickly out of the Great Hall. Leaning on the wall outside, feeding half his toast to the owl as she finished her bacon, he read the hasty scrawl.

I need your help. There's something wrong with D.M. -- think I may know what it is. Go to the restricted section of the library and find "Dark Methods and their Weaknesses by A. K. Pitchdook." Mme Pierce won't give it to you so don't ask. Summoning doesn't work in the Library… I doubt you've read "Hogwarts: A History" yet. Stand under the Whomping Willow at midnight tonight with the book. Wear your cloak.  
love,   
H

Sure enough, at midnight, the Willow began to thrash. Hermione almost squealed in delight as she saw the huge bulk move even from her window. When the tree froze she dared to shoot the golden cord from the tip of her wand. With his Seeker's reflexes, Harry caught it before his mind had even registered its presence. Curiously, he touched the rune at the end and Hermione's voice sounded in his ear.

"Oh, Harry, thank you so much. Tie the book to the cord and I'll pull it back up here. I'm sorry to make you steal from the library again but I just need to confirm that... that Draco is bewitched. It may be You-Know-Who and so wear your cloak whenever you are outside the castle, and do be careful. I'll be out of here soon and Ron is looking much better. He was truly green... oh damn this rune isn't quite powerful enough, oh thank you Ha-" Hermione's voice cut off and the rune crumpled into ash. Harry tied the book on quickly and securely, quite worried that the same thing might happen to the rope and he would be left explaining why he was digging a book he wasn't aloud out of a very thorny and no doubt poisonous bush under the windows of the Hospital Wing. Hermione hauled the rope the minute she felt it released and within a few minutes she had it in her hands, thorn free.

Waving absently at the window on the off-chance that Harry was still there and could see her, she flopped down on her bed, flipping the book open to the Contents Page… Unforgivable Curses, page 516…

Hermione closed the book with a snap and snuck into the next room where Draco and Ron were sleeping peacefully. She smiled, finally able to confirm her suspicions. Standing over Draco's bed, she touched her wand to his white-blonde fringe as lightly as possible and whispered the charm Pitchdook had written: "Vido Incantem Illumaten" three times before adding, almost hesitantly, "Imperius Illumaten." When she looked up, silverly letters hung above the Slytherin's bed.

"Not present."

Hermione gaped, her mouth fallen open slightly. That was impossible. Of course it was the Imperius Curse, she protested silently, nothing else would make Draco act like that! She repeated the test three times but the silvery letters only shone clearer, more defiantly, "Not present."

Finally Hermione huffed her way back to her own room and began to skim the entire 5,000 page text. There were no other Dark Curses that matched Draco's symptoms. Hermione, frustrated, threw the book across the room, only remembering to silence the noise seconds before a large crash that would have brought both boys and possibly Madam Pomfrey into her room in a hurry. Still disgruntled, Hermione wondered if Voldemort could have invented a new curse. Unlikely, but perhaps what seemed new to her and Pitchdook was simply a very old Dark Magic. Three nights later, after reading every word of the book, Hermione found herself standing over Draco's sleeping form again. "Vido Incantem Illumaten" she whispered three times and then "Allem Illumaten."

"None" read the silvery words. Hermione stared at them until they swished into smoke and disappeared.

Draco wasn't enchanted. Somehow, Hermione found herself in her room, sitting on her bed, completely confused. Before this year she would have accepted it but now… She knew Draco. She loved him. And this wasn't Draco. So there must be a loophole even though logic might tell her that it was impossible. She simply refused to believe.

But whatever loophole Hermione hoped to find was not forthcoming. Her research was only interrupted by the end of her quarantine. Having received an official apology from the Dark Arts League, Hermione was welcomed back to class and, despite her fears, she was not behind in the least. In Charms and Herbology she was still a chapter ahead because Professor Flitwick had been distracted by a particularly reticent charm that had made his face glow alternating colors of the rainbow and Professor Sprout had abandoned the syllabus and had even First Years growing Dangling Doobers for an outbreak of Hag Heartitis in the Midlands.

The only problem Hermione faced was that she was completely absentminded. She found herself saying things without even thinking… at least, without thinking about what her mouth was saying. Even while she was tutoring Mhoire, a third year student, she couldn't stop herself from flipping through another psychology anthology.

"Professor Snape mentioned the Polyjuice Potion again today and I remembered that that's one you wouldn't talk about last year." Mhoire attempted to start up a conversation... again.

"The Polyjuice?" Hermione echoed absently. "Oh yes, horrible taste... gloopy you know, and it was really hard to make. Not something you want to try for another two years."

"Wait! You made the Polyjuice Potion?"

"Y- Oh my God! You weren't supposed to know that! I don't know how that slipped out but you mustn't mention it to anyone!"

"Of course. Did it work?"

"Yes. I don't think anyone ever found out, except Professor Dumbledore and Harry told him. It's impossible to tell the difference, except of course their personality. When Harry- Nevermind." Hermione jumped up. "I'm really sorry but I have to leave you. Just… just keep at it."

"Harry! Harry!" Hermione ran down the hallway after him. He turned and looked at his best friend like she had temporarily gone insane. Running through the hallways without shoes, with her hair pulled messily back, held in place with a pencil, perhaps he had a reason. "I need you to come with me right now." Ron looked at Harry and Hermione pointedly. "You too, Ron, actually."

The redhead looked surprised and somehow gratified. They indulged her, jogging behind her dead sprint, to a small alcove out of the way. "I was right." The boys looked at their friend, clueless. "I was right! Something has happened to Draco. And I know what it is. Mhoire actually helped me figure it out. Do you remember when Barty Crouch impersonated Professor Moody? Using the Polyjuice Potion? Under orders from You-Know-Who?"

"You're not saying…" Ron stuttered.

"I am saying it." Hermione cut him off impatiently, turning to fix her glare on Harry. "That isn't Draco! It's someone else! It may even be him! You-Know-Who!"

Ron gulped but knew better than to say anything. Harry nodded, very somber, his mouth in the determined line it had learned since the Prophecy. "We should go to Dumbledore."

"I know, but I just need confirmation. Not even Dumbledore will Stun Draco on the evidence that my boyfriend is acting weird because he doesn't like me anymore."

Ron began to catch on and he seemed to like the plan. "So you're saying…"

"She's saying we need to Stun Draco," Ron beamed as Harry continued, "wait an hour… maybe less, and then find out who it is." Even Harry smiled.

"Exactly." Hermione nodded briskly, but then she hesitated, knowing they weren't going to like the next part. "The only problem is… I need Draco back. The real Draco. I'd do anything to get him back."

Silence.

"So how do we get your boyfriend back?" Ron didn't look up from the floor, but his voice was steady. Hermione's face lit up in delight and she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck, her feet a good six inches off the ground. Ron held her happily.

"There's no way, Hermione." Harry squeezed her hand as she pulled herself away from Ron. "We'll just have to figure out if it's Voldemort. If it is… then he's Stunned, we go grab Dumbledore, and he and I will deal with it. If it isn't, then we get Dumbledore anyway and try to link the person to Voldemort. If that happens… maybe they can tell us where he is. If it's just Draco then we go back to the drawing board."

"It isn't him. I know it." Hermione clenched her fists emphatically.

Harry frowned at her. After a minute of thinking as Ron and Hermione discussed the details he interrupted them. "I don't think you should be there when we Stun Draco." Ron and Hermione both turned to look at him. "You, Hermione."

"What?" Hermione asked, her voice low and dangerous.

Ron stepped in towards her, his arm wrapping around her waist. "Sorry, Harry, but why shouldn't she be there. She's the smartest of us." He grinned down at the brunette.

"Because, if something happened, Hermione is emotionally involved." Harry didn't dare look up.

"Emotionally involved!" Hermione screamed. The hum of the castle seemed to stop as students paused to try to identify the screech. Hermione blushed and lowered her voice, but she lost none of her intensity. "What the hell are you talking about? I love him and I am going to save him!"

"You shouldn't be there." Harry insisted. "Maybe if you weren't so crazy about him you'd see sense and realize its not safe."

"To hell with safe!" Hermione checked her voice again, but stepped in closer to Harry, hissing almost in his ear, "Was going to find the Sorcerer's Stone safe? Was stealing Buckbeak safe? Is being you friend safe what with You-Know-Who out there?"

Harry grabbed her wrists. "I won't let you risk your life for him."

"I'd give my life for him. No questions asked." Hermione's voice was now calm.

Harry's was not. "Why?" He shook her gently. "Why him, Hermione? Why a Malfoy?"

Hermione opened her mouth but before she could reply Harry had released her, turned away, and begun to stalk off, furiously, with Ron following apologetically behind.

"Harry?" She called after him. "Harry!"

He didn't turn around.

---

Sorry about the wait. Hectic week. Hopefully I'll be a little more consistent now.


	19. The Chamber of Secrets

Harry and Ron planned to Stun Draco after dinner the following day. So Hermione, listening three feet away in the entrance to the girl's staircase, planned to Stun him after lunch. She waited outside the Slytherin Common Room under Harry's invisibility cloak, watching the newly stolen Map. The Map! She quickly scanned it, realizing that if she could find "Draco Malfoy" on it, that would mean Draco himself were here, and no imposter. But as her eyes raked the map she slowed, and looked up. On the wall next to her was a human shaped shadow… It was not hers, because the Invisibility Cloak cleverly took care of that. Invisibility spells however… Hermione looked fearfully to her right but, as she suspected, she saw no one. The Map showed no one. But someone distinctly said, "Stupefy!"

Hermione woke up on a cold stone floor. After a groan and a minute of rapid blinking and remembering she sat up abruptly and almost screamed as she came face to face with an enormous stone face. Gulping, she waited for her memory to kick in and sure enough she could identify the face as Salazar Slytherin's. As she turned her head she saw that she was lying directly between two huge stone snakes, rearing up like an honor guard on the border of a low stone bridge surrounded by pools of dark stagnant water. What interested her more, however, was a small stick of wood floating a few feet away. Eagerly, Hermione scrambled to the edge of the bridge and, reaching over, managed to touch her wand with the tips of her fingers. Painstakingly she pulled it back in towards her, trying not to think of what might be living in the water she was barely touching.

Her wand safely in her hand she smiled. "Point me." Her wand didn't spin to point north. It did not move. She tried again, moving the wand in all directions but never even seeing the slightest vibration. Hermione's initial thrill at getting her wand back began to fade. She tried other spells at random: "Lumos!" Nothing. She called for fire, water, wind…

"I see you've discovered why I left you your wand." A voice hissed behind her. Hermione whipped around to face a tall man. Deathly pale, his features: large eyes, a thin nose and cold thin lips, looked like a caricature. She could sense something reptilian about him, and his robes draped so loosely that Hermione's mind could easily provide images of a snake tail beneath them, tall and straight and thin. Hermione's hackles rose and she gripped her useless wand even more tightly. The man only smiled. "No warm welcome? But I thought you liked Slytherins."

"You're You Kn… Voldemort." Hermione steeled herself, putting her chin up jauntily and standing as tall as she could to face the seven foot skeletal snake before her.

The man only smiled. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." He stepped forward, reaching out a skeletal hand to an inch from her face. "Just like before, in Hagrid's cabin."

"Hagrid!" Hermione cried out. She had been so absorbed in what was wrong with Draco, that she had forgotten about him. "Where's Hagrid?" she demanded, earning herself an amused smirk from Voldemort.

The man twirled his wand in his long fingers, clearly still enjoying the sensations of being flesh and blood. Watching his own hands, intrigued by them, he carelessly laughed. "Hagrid indeed. I do seem to cause trouble for him. I would imagine he truly wishes that he hadn't come back a little too soon and seen me. Of course, he didn't see you or else even that brainless oaf would have tried to fight. I have no doubt though that he's run away to Aragog and they are both living happily in fear of me." Hermione just glared at him. "You look prettier when you are furious." He commented and leaned forward, head tilted, large eyes open even wider.

Hermione shuddered under his inspection, wishing he would go back to being intrigued by his own flesh. "And what about the three of us. Me? Ron? Dra… Malfoy?"

Voldemort smiled wryly. "Do you know, this is the longest conversation I've had in a long time. Unfortunately too many of my… friends… expire too quickly for in depth discussion."

"Like Draco?" Hermione was surprised to hear her own voice, accusing the Dark Lord no less.

"Kill Lucius' son? No, not yet. He's a talented boy, I'm sure he will be useful later on. If he's not I'll kill him then." Voldemort laughed his mirthless laugh, exalting in his dark humor. "But I could hardly let him go back to school, and to you." Hermione's mouth tightened. "He already told me all about you. Though not enough for my actor to deceive you. Polyjuice, yes." Voldemort waved his hand to her unasked question. "Again, you did not disappoint me. Not many witches could have identified that."

"I'm full of surprises." Hermione said wryly, fighting fear with sarcasm. "And when you keep using the same tricks…"

"Crouch?" Voldemort arched his eyebrow. "Perhaps. But you were right about the first part… you are full of surprises." He stepped towards Hermione, cape swirling and she stepped backwards, and caught her heel on the slightly raised edge of the walkway. Only her quick grab for one of the stone snakes saved her from falling into the dark water. She clung to the stone as Voldemort walked in a semicircle around her, sneering angrily. "Do I repulse you that much?"

He turned away, still pacing. "There was a time when every girl in this school was mad for me. A time when I was the perfect man."

Hermione couldn't help but interrupt his musings. "And killing Muggle-borns? I bet that was popular."

"Ah, yes. Jump up for Mudblood's rights." Voldemort laughed again, sending a chill down Hermione's spine. He turned to her, suddenly intense. "I won't kill you because of your parents." Hermione stared back, pulling her quivering bottom lip into her mouth. Voldemort watched it, intranced, murmuring absently, "My own father, in the lowest sense of the word of course, was a Muggle. But I wish you'd seen me as the perfect man. So much more perfect than the Malfoy boy." Hermione's brown eyes widened in true fear. A clap of blinding light forced her to duck behind the snake but when she dared look out, she almost cried out. Standing in front of her was a sixteen year old Tom Riddle.

Riddle smiled at her, smoothing his school tie. "Unchanged for fifty years, just waiting." He offered her his hand.

"Waiting for what?" Hermione deliberately spat in his face.

"Well not for that, I can tell you." Riddle stepped up to her and grabbed her arm with superhuman strength. He touched her cheek with the palm of his hand. The gesture was so different from Voldemort's studied hedonistic view to the five senses. Even the illusion of Tom Riddle possessed a teenage crudeness and unveiled lust. He lacked the Dark Lord's iron control and sarcastic distance.

Riddle also seemed to share a certain amount of the teenage boy's mind. "You're different, arent' you."

"I'm very unique." Hermione tried to pull away but he only pushed her backward until she was flush against Salazar Slytherin's beard.

"Very unique for a Mudblood." Hermione was beginning to see where Voldemort had gotten his tendency to muse lethargically from. "You see," Riddle continued, "when I came here, to this place, for the first time, I thought that disposing of people like you was my mission, my destiny, my purification. I thought it was something I had to do but when Hogwarts almost closed, I gave it up. I defied Salazar Slytherin and look what I became!" Riddle spread his arms. "The most powerful wizard ever."

"Dumbledore—"

"Potter's words. Don't you think for yourself?" Riddle's hatred couldn't be disguised. "He defended that weak old man and yet look. Dumbledore's been protecting Harry well, I will admit. But who got Harry's blood? And who lured him down here, and into the Department of Mysteries, and to fetch me the Sorcerer's Stone?" Riddle smiled. "And who's protecting you?" Hermione glared at the boy in front of her furiously, ready to protest that she didn't need saving. "You're alone, defenseless, with the Darkest Wizard alive, in the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "The Chamber of…"

"Well," Riddle grinned in a disconcerting surfacing of innate charm that made Hermione remember Ginny's descriptions of Riddle's seductive personality. "I would have made it Penelope's Garden but you'd already been there. I had to go for the more Slytherin, less romantic."

Hermione wanted to scream, but they were both silenced by a splash on the bridge. Riddle turned behind him and pulled a knife from his robes. "One move, Potter, and she dies." Hermione's eyes were riveted on the knife. She took in its ornate engraved handle that twisted into the shape of a serpent and even had time to wonder about the irony of the most powerful dark wizard resorting to a Muggle tool before Harry's voice floated into her hazy mind.

"Let her go, Voldemort." She looked up, dazed by mortal fear, and saw Harry stopped in the middle of the bridge. "It's me you want to kill."

"I can deal with you later," Riddle shrugged carelessly. "Right now I want to have a little talk with your pretty friend. Our last conversation was all business."

"Last conversation?" Harry echoed. He whipped out his wand but stopped as he saw a drop of blood form on the blade against Hermione's neck.

Riddle's voice began to thin and Hermione could hear the "s" sound elongating with each word. "Last conversation, Potter. In Hagrid's cabin. Before her rather pointless quarantine." His laugh was even a hiss now and Riddle's dark head bowed for a second. Hermione could almost feel the magic in the air around the man, growing as more and more was called to keep the sixteen-year-old boy.

"An illusion would probably be easier to maintain." Hermione commented vacantly, all her senses seeming dumbed by the knife against her neck. Through the fog in her mind, she chided herself. She hadn't been this useless while they had searched for the Sorcerer's Stone, or when she knew a Basilisk was running around the school, or against Sirius when they thought he was a murderer. She had even fought grown wizards in the Department of Mysteries. Why was she so numb now.

Voldemort looked at her disparagingly, all of Riddle's quiet interest gone. His fingers wrapped around her neck, flexing, enjoying their own strength, but now with no interest for the girl in his power. He tightened his fingers experimentally as he told her, "when I need your advice, Mudblood, I'll ask for it." Hermione coughed and spluttered in response as she began to feel dizzy.

"Stop it! Stop it right now!" Harry jumped forward, his wand outstretched.

Voldemort only hissed a laugh. "How pathetic. Is everyone in this school in love with her?" Then his eyes turned a gloating red and he pulled out his wand, ready to engage Harry as the boy ran towards them. Harry, even with his wand up, would not be able to hold the connection. The Dark Lord smiled as he raised his wand arm artistically to perform the killing curse.

Hermione however, used all her strength to push off the statue. She was no match for Voldemort's unnatural strength but her leg connected with something soft and mobile. Voldemort dropped the knife and let go of Hermione's neck to brace himself against the statue as he winced in pain. Hermione fell to the ground without his tight hold and the pain of a skinned knee jolted her back to awareness.

She rebounded instantly and jumped up. Harry was staring at her. "Run!" She canned to him. Harry simply continued to stare. "Run! He's bewitched the room, my wand won't work!" Hermione grabbed Harry's hands as she passed him and pulled him along for a moment before he too came to life and began to run, even faster than she, headlong towards he door. Hermione however gazed at the thick stone in despair, the door was closed.

Riddle's laugh sounded behind them. "Bravado and bravery and all that stops you is one closed door. Ironic, don't you think." Hermione stopped running. She looked over her shoulder and saw Riddle, sixteen in his entirety once more, lounging against Salazar Slytherin's head. He grinned at her. "I can see why you have so many lovely boys head over heels for you: Malfoy, Potter, the Weasley boy, Krum… and of course, we can't forget Riddle."

Hermione felt close to tears, but her blood froze as she heard a snake hiss close behind her. Riddle jerked upright and Hermione turned to see Harry standing before the door, which was opening very slowly. He turned back to look for her and saw her further back than he had expected. As she began to run, Harry pushed his weight against the door, as if that could make it open faster. Hermione could hear Riddle hissing in Parseltongue too and she threw herself against the door. "Oh please open, open, open!"

The door stopped when it had opened about a foot. Harry, thin as ever, scrambled through and held his hand for Hermione to pull herself through. But the door was beginning to close and now Hermione was left with little more than six inches. Hermione squeezed Harry's hand as she pushed herself desperately against the door but quickly realized that she was lost. She pulled back just in time to prevent herself from becoming completely wedged in. The door closed: Harry on one side, Hermione and Tom Riddle on the other.

Riddle had now reached the breathless girl. She eyed him suspiciously. "Well, for the most powerful wizard on earth, a fifty percent capture rate is not very good." Hermione taunted breathlessly, needing the brave words to hide her helpless terror. You're a Gryffindor, she told herself, you can do this.

Riddle seemed unconvinced. "I let him go. Potter's a rather annoying little boy."

"You let him go? Interesting, it took you what, four failed attempts to kill him, before you realized that he's just an annoying little boy? Are you stupid or just really slow on the uptake?" The words were coming from somewhere, Hermione couldn't guess where as she felt herself trapped inside a little girl's body, helpless, waiting for her minute to become Voldemort's next victim.

He seemed to read her mind, his eyes boring into hers, a deceptively rich chocolate brown without the slightest hint of red. "I'm not going to kill you, you stupid girl." Riddle crossed the distance between them and watched amusedly as Hermione instinctively pressed herself against the door in an effort to gain even the slightest bit more space. "I am that repulsive, am I? Why, Hermione… may I call you Hermione?" Now Riddle was in his element, mockingly polite. "Why am I so disgusting?" He made the question seem philosophical, not an accusation at all. "You love my little minion Malfoy, you like that annoying Potter and that stupid scared Weasley boy and even that oaf Hagrid! But not me…?" He grinned winningly.

Hermione abandoned all pretense and felt her voice shake. "Are you saying I should like someone who kills people like me?"

"The past… all in the past. I thought it was my duty, then my destiny to kill Potter. For Salazar Slytherin's noble work or my war, but now… well, I see an opportunity. A year ago I would have been furious that Potter escaped and I was left with some sixth year Mudblood geek, but now? I think I'm quite lucky. You have a lot of friends in high places that I would really love to make friends with. I'm sure you can help me, shall we say, bridge the gap?" His voice was icy cold, but his eyes softened as they looked into hers, becoming a very interested gaze. He smirked again, "And, according to Malfoy's memory, you are an excellent kisser." Riddle leaned in.

---

Updates! Hope you like the more… plot focused… sections of the story. Gi Xian, yes I had thought of the Marauder's Map and was going to just hope no one noticed but you reminded me right before I wrote this chapter so I thought I'd just give Hermione our stellar realization. Oh, Midnight Pixie, I totally agree with you. Philosopher's Stone actually makes sense! Anyway, enough shout outs, I love everyone who's reviewed, even if I don't mention you by name. Please keep them coming! Oh, and if you wait a bit there will be more happy fluff later I'm sure.


	20. The Riddle House

"Mudblood!" Voldemort swept into the room as Hermione stirred in the four poster and rubbed her eyes. He pulled the covers off her, making her shiver. "Get up you lazy little girl." Lazy, Hermione thought, was quite an unfair judgment when she had been up all night trying to send a message to anyone outside the Riddle House. Voldemort watched her as she pulled a thick brocade robe over her nightdress. Hermione glared back, seeing the warm brown begin to deepen his red eyes. Riddle had a penchant for voyeurism that even Voldemort's hedonistic pleasure in sensation couldn't match. Voldemort did not rise to the bait, instead he walked over to her mirror and allowed himself to shrink and for the years to fall away. "You have a visitor," he commented idly as he brushed his brown hair back with a hand. "and I have received a letter."

"My God, someone actually wasted a good sheet of paper on you. What a shock." Hermione threw the sheets into some kind of order.

Riddle grinned, inspecting his fingernails, as he leaned his back against the mirror. Hermione grudgingly admitted that he was quite handsome when he lounged in his sixteen-year-old confidence. Even more so if you didn't know the evil man that lurked just beneath the surface. "I take it you don't want to see your visitor then? And you don't want me to discuss your ransom with Dumbledore?" The boy looked up at her slyly, observing her reaction.

He was getting to her. "I doubt very much that what I want has any effect on you," she said haughtily. Riddle only shrugged, his icy smile agreeing. He turned to leave.

"Oh, and Hermione… you'll want to wear something other than your dressing gown. I haven't been to a Quidditch match in years but I understand Viktor Krum is rather good."

Krum! Hermione's heart leapt in fear and hope. She didn't know which one hurt more but she couldn't wait either way. Throwing open the closet she yanked out a dress. It was Riddle's choice and clearly fitting his teenage taste. Hermione sighed as she buckled the heavy strap around her neck and the other on her back. At least her hair would cover that much as she had given up trying to tame it. The long slit, there was no hope for. Not taking the time to primp further, Hermione knocked on her door three times and two hooded, masked Death Eaters appeared. The girl looked at them with disgust, but followed them down the hall into a study. At the door, Hermione pushed ahead.

"Viktor!" The room was empty. "Viktor?"

"Hermioninny!" She jumped at the sound of his voice and desperately looked around for him.

"Where are you?"

"I'm vight here!" By the tone of his voice, Hermione could tell that he thought she had gone crazy.

Sighing, she turned in a complete circle. "Be a little more specific. There's something wrong. I can't see you."

"Very vell." He paused a moment. "Turn… now stop. A little left… more… no, too much. Alvight, vight there. In front off you."

Hermione looked ahead but all there was was a mirror. "It's a mirror, Viktor."

"No, no! There is a vindow! I can see you" the boy insisted. "Vight in front off you."

Hermione touched the mirror thoughtfully and then… "It's a two way mirror! It must be!"

"A vot?"

"It's a Muggle thing… all I can see is my reflection, but to you it looks like clear glass. But that's not the point. Viktor, what the hell are you doing here? Where are we, anyway?"

"Granger you astonish me." Voldemort's icy voice cut off Krum's answer. "I thought I would have more than half a minute of amusement after the trouble of importing the Muggle trick mirror."

"I'm heartbroken for you." Hermione quipped. "Viktor?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Voldemort's voice didn't sound sorry. "We've moved on to negotiations."

"Negotiations?" Hermione echoed.

"Yes, Mr. Krum, what can you offer me?"

"Viktor, don't! Just leave, now, while you can." He didn't answer. "Viktor!"

"Touching, but pointless." Voldemort's voice mocked her. "He can't hear you."

"You slimy little bas—"

"I wouldn't." Voldemort cautioned harsly. "I have your dear friend here. And Nox, Lindon." The two Death Eaters appeared silently. "Escort Miss Granger back to her room. Regrettably she won't be able to see her visitor."

Hermione made a rude gesture, certain that Voldemort would still be watching her. He hissed a laugh, confirming her suspicions. Hermione allowed herself to be led out and down the corridor. The men opened her door and she stomped through without a word, hearing the click of the door behind her. She whirled around, ready to grab a pillow and throw it against the wall, but stopped short and gasped. "Draco?"

He smiled, lounging on her bed. A second glance showed her how terribly ill Draco looked. Some of his hair was too long, not having been carefully barbered in captivity. The rest had been cut off, probably for the Polyjuice potion. "That bad?" The Slytherin asked as he correctly interpreted her assessment.

"And worse." Hermione said frankly, sitting gingerly on the bed next to him. His shirt was in shreds, and across his still firm muscles, stripes and healing cuts zig-zagged white skin. Gently, Hermione ran a finger across one of the few lines that had healed.

Draco grabbed her hand and crammed it to his mouth, breathing heavily and rapidly. Hermione ran her other hand through his hair, her eyes wet. She moved to pull his head against her shoulder but he looked up, releasing her hand to cup her face, more gently although the touch was demanding. He kissed her without further pretense, passionately, with all his need. Hermione couldn't help but kiss him back, her hands investigating the new layers of his hair and running feather-light down his back, over new ridges and raw skin.

"Wait, Draco… Draco, sweet, love… Draco, the Death Eaters…" Hermione gasped out the words through his hot kisses.

"I don't care." He gasped as he kissed her lips, nose, cheeks and eyelids, kneeling on the bed over her as she half lay on the bed. "I just want to kiss you. Let me kiss you."

Hermione wasn't inclined to argue.

Later, as she had anticipated, Draco was less than happy to hear about what had passed since her capture. "Krum is here? That dirty, slimy turncoat—"

"Hush." Hermione lifted her head slightly from where it had been cradled on his shoulder and kissed his neck softly. "He's trying to help I'm sure of it." Draco made an unconvinced noise. "Look," Hermione pushed herself up, and pulled her hair away from her face. Draco's hands followed hers, brushing the curls gently aside and stroking them. Hermione lay her hands over his own. "I broke up with Viktor. He didn't break up with me. I think he's trying to rescue me. It's cute, but rather pointless."

Draco nodded and slipped his hands away from hers, allowing his torso to fall until his head was between his knees. Hermione stroked his back, feeling him shiver beneath her hands. "A hell of a lot of good I did you," he said finally. "I'm a Malfoy and I have to let some Bulgarian peasant bail you out."

"Hey, Riddle told me what you did. You tried to fight Voldemort." Hermione leaned down and lay her cheek against his back, kissing his shoulder. "Most people would have seen him and run. You were brave."

"It's not like I'd never seen him before."

"What?" Hermione pulled away.

Draco sat up reluctantly and spoke hesitantly. "My sixteenth birthday. The only guest at my party was Voldemort. This year? It's my Ordeal. I have to find something to offer him, to show him my services are worthwhile. I was supposed to..."

He trails off and looks down. "What?" Draco shot Hermione a single apologetic look before returning his gaze to the duvet. "You were supposed to kill Harry. Weren't you?" He didn't answer. "Weren't you?" Hermione demanded, grabbing his shoulder.

The pain jerked an answer out of Draco. "No." Hermione recoiled slightly. He grabbed her chin and pulled her back to him, making her stare into his deep blue eyes. There was no flicker of laughter or flirtatiousness in them. "I was supposed to kill you."

"Oh my God." Hermione pulled away and stood up. He followed her, but she kept moving away until she found herself backed up against the wall. "You..." Draco knew the betrayal on his face could not have been clearer if she had stabbed him.

"Hermione, I never would have. Never. I probably wouldn't have killed anyone but... I'd never hurt you." He cupped her face in his hands, his big blue eyes wide. "Hermione, I'd never ever hurt you."

Hermione stared back, helpless. How could he have… "I know." Draco's eyes were still wide and scared. Hermione offered him a small smile. "I know I love you. And I know you love me. And that's enough."

"Enough?" Draco teased. "Don't you need the arithmancy formula and a list of the runes?"

Hermione smiled and let him pull her into his embrace. "Enough that I'll take the rest on faith," she amended, kissing him. She pulled back but he followed her. "But I do want to" kiss "know how" kiss "you knew" kiss "that I'd be transfiguring" kiss "you into a lion that day" kiss "in class."

He smiled, leaning over her, with one arm on each side of her head against the wall. "Well," he said, his eyes caressing her lips almost as tangibly as his lips had. "I knew Human Transfig was coming up and I'd been having this feeling that I wasn't as Slytherin as I should be, so I put a lion and a raven in each pocket and used up the runes I carved into them. I figured if I didn't turn into a snake I could pull out the right one and… and accuse you." He smiled lopsidedly. "Can you forgive me?"

Hermione pretended to consider this a moment, but Draco bowed his head and blew softly on her neck. "Maybe." She teased as his lips kissed her windpipe. She pulled him back up to kiss him back, looking him directly in the eyes for a moment. "Oh all right then." Then she kissed him.

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Read and Review please! I loved the reviews from last chapter. I'm glad Riddle evoked such strong reactions. And I brought Draco back, as promised!


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